


A World Of Trouble

by TottWriter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 1980s aesthetic, Action/Adventure, Adventure/Drama, Gen, HQ Brofest, HQ Brofest Champion Tier, This is basically an 80s action film in written form, also technically Fantasy AU, generous heapings of secrets, gratuitous use of ciphertext, not-so-mild peril, oh and angst too I guess, spy AU, terrible life choices, the most Extra Akaashi I will ever write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 08:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10782834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TottWriter/pseuds/TottWriter
Summary: Oikawa Tooru is not a spy. He’s not even an athlete any more. He certainly doesn’t have or want anything to do with missing agents, government secrets, or a century-old war. But when a mysterious visitor shows up at his door asking for help, he somehow manages to end up right at the heart of a mission involving all three.AKA: The 1980s cold war fantasy spy thriller I just had to write.





	1. GHLAB XVSNP EIGEO ATDID EESST NHPOS

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is the second of the fics I've written for the Haikyuu Brofest, and is definitely the more serious of the two. The general plot is one which I've had hanging around in my brain for quite a while now, and when I heard of the event I decided to rework it and do a HQ cast version. I'm hoping the final story will clock in somewhere under the 60k mark, so there will be more to come, even after the event is over! 
> 
> Also, huge, _huuuuge_ thanks to [milksalt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/milksalt) for designing the work skin which features in this fic! The different formatting for the transmission asides makes them so much more effective, and I was completely blown away by being just...handed the code to do it. Truly, your CSS-fu is a marvel to non-techy types such as me.
> 
> ...Oh, incidentally, all the ciphertext in this fic can be decoded to reveal additional context. Some of it is technically spoilery, perhaps, so I'll hold off on revealing the keyword for now. Maaaajor props to anyone who can work it out though! (Hint: I used the Vigenère Cipher, so it maaay be a little tricky depending on how you go about it.)

>   
>  _GOXXCGMGAETWG-EKEYEJHOYTZ/TVMIPLTRMGGIHB_  
>    
>  _INPUT:INTERCEPTED CIPHERTEXT >DECRYPT    _  
>  _…DECRYPTING…_  
>  _…MESSAGE DECRYPTED._  
>  _DISPLAYING PLAINTEXT:_  
>    
>  _> >URGENT BROADCAST ALL CHANNELS STOP THIS IS NIGHTBIRD STOP POSITION COMPROMISED STOP LOELKEN ARMY POISED FOR NEW OFFENSIVE STOP URGE IMMEDIATE PREEMPTIVE STRIKE ON TARGET EIGHTEEN STOP FURTHER SENSITIVE INFORMATION UNSAFE TO SEND STOP WILL EXTRACT AND LIAISE WITH CONTACT IN REPUBLIC TERRITORY STOP MESSAGE REPEAT STOP URGENT BROADCAST ALL CHANNELS STOP THIS IS NIGHTBIRD STOP POSITION COMPR_  
>    
>  _END PLAINTEXT_  
>    
> 

 

Tooru would forever blame it on his knee.  
  
That was a lie. If he were to blame it on his knee, then he ought really to blame it on the _cause_ of his knee blowing out—which was the sudden appearance of a portal in the middle of the gymnasium, right in front of where he had just served a volleyball. The first sign he had was when the ball landed with a muffled _whumph_ onto grass instead of polished wood. The second was when he opened his eyes to a window of rolling fields instead of the gym. He’d landed hard on the wooden floor, too startled to straighten his legs properly.  
  
_“Shit!”_ someone nearby had cried, although amid the searing pain in his leg and his accompanying scream of agony, he hadn’t especially noticed who it was.  
  
Hands seized him and dragged him backwards, clear of any expansion. Despite the pain, all he could manage to do was stare ahead into that other world. It was sunny. The sky was blue. The grass was green. There were meadow flowers, just visible over the lip of the portal where it hung, a foot from the ground. A gentle breeze wafted through, carrying their scent. And a large ring system dominated the sky, visible even in the other world’s daylight. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  
  
His knee burned, and he could feel tears streaming down his cheeks in response to the tissue damage which he would absolutely be petrified about in a few moments. But against all reason—against every deep-seated bias and instinct he had—the first words he found himself stuttering were:  
  
“I should get the ball.”

 

* * *

 

Eight weeks after his encounter, Tooru found himself on the train for home, tucked up in the window seat with a newspaper which _really_ wasn’t capturing his interest. More headlines about the war. More rumours that active conflict might flare up again at some point soon. More of the same old scare stories which had always turned out to be just that. Much more pressing was what he was going to do with himself during his self-enforced time alone.  
  
In the blink of an eye, his career had ended. The cast from his failed knee operation had come off the week before, leaving him without anything by way of a future. He’d never especially considered a life outside athletics, not believing he’d need to worry about it for years. Even when he’d been informed that the surgery he would need was pioneering, and still relatively untested, he hadn’t accepted the possibility it might not work until it hadn’t. And to be surrounded by everyone’s pity after that…no. Even exiling himself to the countryside where he’d grown up was a better option.  
  
The rest of his friends had all moved away from home—the days of staying on to take over the farm had all but passed. He and Iwaizumi had been among the first to move to the city, chasing a volleyball career which they had founded their friendship on. But they hadn’t been the last. When he’d returned home for his grandfather’s funeral, four months earlier, almost all his former schoolmates had gone.  
  
_I suppose even Kunimi must have left by now,_ he thought, folding the newspaper closed with a sigh. It was going to be lonely, that was certain. But better, in a way. It would give him time to muddle his way to some sort of answer.  
  
As though to torment him, the ripple of a portal came into view as the train left a cutting. It was some distance off, out in the middle of a field—a window of rain and storms on an otherwise calm day. This far out from civilisation, it would probably just be ignored until it closed by itself. There was every chance that no one else but the livestock in the fields would even know it had been there. He screwed his face up, and exhaled sharply. _Damn things._  
  
The rolling hills were growing more familiar. He reached down for the walking stick he’d been forced to buy, and checked the time on his watch before getting to his feet. With any luck, the taxi he had phoned ahead for would already be at the station.  
  
It was. However, he hadn’t quite banked on the friendly, helpful train porter who had loaded his bags only being able to unload them from the _train_ , and that he would be the one left to carry them across the platform and down five steps to where the drab grey car awaited him.  
  
The stationmaster’s office was locked. Tooru discovered as much after hobbling across the platform and rattling the door in vain. After a few moments he saw the notice taped to an adjacent window, scrawled on a piece of lined notepaper:  
  
_~Have to manage without me today - finally got that appointment to get my new hearing aid!~_  
  
“Thanks a _lot_ , Chiba-san,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “You’ve been deaf for years, and now’s when you decide to get it sorted out?”  
  
It wasn’t fair. Four months ago he could have skipped across the platform if he’d wanted to—although he wouldn’t have, because he actually _cared_ about his image. And there was enough of that stubborn pride left in him that he found himself limping across the station with as much dignity as he could muster, despite knowing what he would have to do next.  
  
Fortunately, there was no one else around on the platform to witness the considerably less dignified picture he painted as he hooked his walking stick into the handles of his suitcases and dragged them, one at a time, across the platform to the—  
  
“Stairs. Shit.”  
  
He took a deep breath. _It’s fine. I can do this. I’m not letting stairs beat me._  
  
From the foot of the steps he wielded his trusty walking stick once more. It was a trifle harder to hook the suitcase handle at arm’s length, but after a few attempts he tugged on it with a triumphant cry, only to squawk with dismay as it slid off the platform, rattled down the steps past him and flipped over to land in the only puddle visible anywhere.  
  
Tooru deflated. He looked back up at the platform, where the second, even larger suitcase seemed to loom over him, promising trouble. But it wasn’t going to float down the stairs, and at least the puddle was fully occupied now. He gripped the handrail for support and had just raised his stick to attempt the hooking process once more when a voice called out behind him:  
  
“Hai there, Oikawa-kun? You wanting a spot o’ help today?”  
  
For a moment he was tempted to snap that no, he didn’t _want_ help at all…but true as that was, it was also the sort of rudeness you could only get away with in the city. It was out of the question now he was home again. He sighed and turned around, trying to keep his expression cheerful.  
  
“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wanted it, but I suppose I can’t deny that I’m a teensy bit stuck right now.” Smiling broadly, he added: “How’s Etsuko-chan these days?”

 

>   
>  _GOXXCGMGAETWGLMSEZZR-MRTPWTBKINNPPJ/EKEYEJHOYTZ_  
>    
>  _> >TRANSMISSION HISTORY SEARCH:[KEYWORD]NIGHTBIRD_  
>  _SEARCH CRITERIA:[AGE] <90 DAYS_  
>  _…RECOVERING FILES…_  
>  _…FILES FOUND._  
>  _DISPLAYING TRANSCRIPTS:_  
>    
>  _> >SENT::Nightbird, extraction imminent. Move to prearranged location and make contact. Repeat, make contact with extraction team. _  
>    
>  _> >SENT::Nightbird, failure to make contact has been noted. Extraction team will move on if contact is not made within seventy two hours. Repeat, contact is essential within seventy two hours of this broadcast. _  
>    
>  _> >SENT::Nightbird, contact window is now six hours. Immediate contact is required or extraction will fail._  
>    
>  _NO FURTHER RESULTS FOUND_  
>  _REFINE SEARCH CRITERIA:Y/N_  
>  _> >N  
>  _  
> 

 

It was both easy and hard to return to a town so small that he even knew the taxi drivers—all two of them—by name. Hard because it wasn’t an anonymous face who had seen his undignified struggle across the platform—it was Sasaki-san, whose wife was one of the foremost gossip-mongers in the area. Their daughter wasn’t a whole lot better which meant the news about his return and state of health would be common knowledge in less than a week. But it was easy, too, because when he asked Sasaki to stop off at the local store so that he could fetch some groceries, the man offered to go in himself to spare both Tooru’s leg and dignity.  
  
“I can’t lie and say as folk’ll not know, either way,” he’d said ruefully, “But there’s no need to strain yourself straight off.”  
  
It was a peace offering, in exchange for the fact that they both knew he’d be telling his family, and that they in turn would tell everyone else. Tooru accepted it gladly. His knee was stiff and sore from the long journey without movement, compounded by his struggle at the station.  
  
By the time they’d reached the winding driveway to the Oikawa house, the day had waned to a dim twilight. The two-storey building loomed out of the shadows, dark and forbidding.  
  
“You’ll be alright up here by yesself?” Sasaki asked as he helped lug Tooru’s suitcases up the steps. “It’s a long old walk if owt goes wrong.”  
  
Tooru nodded grimly. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “It’s only a few weeks until they’ve said I can start driving again, and then I’ll be heading back to fetch my car and the rest of my things.”  
  
“You’re moving back permanent-like, then?” Sasaki asked, eyebrows raised. “I will admit, folk thought you’d be selling the house.”  
  
He sighed. “I thought about it,” he admitted, hobbling into the kitchen and flicking on the lights. “But…well, we’ll see. Oh, just leave the bags here. I can manage the rest. And…thank you. For the help.” _I really needed it_ , he didn’t add, although he was sure it was written all over his face.  
  
“Ahh, don’t you worry there, Oikawa-kun,” Sasaki said. “Consider it a favour repaid. Old Oikawa-san always had a kind word or deed on him, all the years he lived here. I’m sure I’m not the only one who considers themselves as owing your family, one way or t’other.”  
  
Tooru smiled again, but he was glad that Sasaki didn’t linger long. It was awkward enough coming home to an empty house, without being reminded of the long, benevolent shadow his grandfather’s legacy cast over the community. Accepting favours _he_ was owed was one thing. He’d certainly never been known for turning them down. But accepting them because they were owed to the dead was quite another matter entirely.  
  
His knee burned, but he forced himself out to the larder to switch the fridge and freezer on, before unpacking the few groceries which he’d bought to tide him over until they were fully working. The house smelled stale and old. He’d have to give everything a thorough clean again. It had only been a few months, but the dust and cobwebs had started to mount up already.  
  
_Another time_ , he thought wearily, making his way into the living room with a packet of senbei. It seemed to take forever.  
  
That was the countryside in a nutshell, though. The house was sprawling where his city apartment was compact. Remote where the city was full of people and transport, all crammed in together. Old-fashioned, while the city was heaving with the latest technological breakthroughs. He hadn’t even bothered bringing his shoulder phone with him, despite how much he had shelled out for the thing just a few months before. There were no mobile telephone networks this far out. Iwaizumi knew the number for the farmhouse, anyway, and he was the only person from his now defunct life there that Tooru was prepared to speak to for the time being.  
  
And, for all that he could have lit the house like a beacon—there were certainly enough lamps dotted about the place—the country was dark where the city was bright. Too much light felt out of place. He flicked the switch on a table lamp and limped over to prod the power button on the television. The set hummed and buzzed as the screen warmed up. It was an older model than the one in his city apartment; housed in a wooden box which had been placed upon a low table.  
  
It had belonged to his grandfather—the same as almost everything else in the house. He’d only really cleared out anything in danger of rotting when he’d come home the last time. Emptied the cupboards of their food, and packed up the houseplants. He’d been planning to come back and make a second attempt at some point. He _hadn’t_ expected his return to be quite as permanent as it now seemed likely to be.  
  
The most comfortable spot in the living room was the armchair. It was set up to have the best angle for viewing the TV. But it, too, had been his grandfather’s seat. Without really thinking about it, Tooru found himself landing heavily on the sofa, pulling the throw off the back and wrapping it around his legs. He leant back, shifting until he was comfortable. It was familiar enough, even despite the pain in his knee, that half of him still expected his grandfather to wander over with a mug of hot chocolate.  
  
_That_ was a thought he stamped on hard. Hard and fast, focusing instead on the television, although he was too tired to really pay much attention to the programme. The news was on, with a presenter wittering on about the latest developments out on the Loelken Front.  
  
The words washed over him, not really penetrating. He was too tired to fully focus on the screen at all. He probably ought to get up in a minute or so, and turn it off. He should…should…  
  
Tooru woke to a crick in his neck and sunlight in his eyes. The television set hummed softly in the background. It was still early enough that only the test card was playing, and the silence was oppressive. What was wrong?  
  
He blinked, sitting upright and gingerly rubbing his neck. Silent. That was it. The clock had stopped.  
  
In the city, he hadn’t especially noticed the lack of a clock. There was constant noise—cars, people, aeroplanes overhead. Here in the country, without that gentle ticking, time itself might as well have stopped too.  
  
Winding the clock wasn’t something he’d done all that many times, but he was managing it with only a small amount of awkwardness from his knee when the telephone rang. Swearing, he hobbled over to the little table on which it rested and sank carefully onto the chair beside it. Going from standing to sitting still brought a sharp discomfort to his knee.  
  
“Hello? Oikawa residence.”  
  
“Hey, _asshole_ , what the hell?” came Iwaizumi’s voice. “I told you to call me as soon as you got there.”  
  
Tooru winced, but recovered quickly. “Oh, so you were worried about me, Iwa-chan?” he said airily.  
  
“Of course I was, you shithead! You’re holing up in a giant house in the middle of nowhere when you can still barely walk. And don’t try and bullshit me and say you’re fine, either. If it wasn’t for—” He stopped abruptly, huffing loudly against the receiver.  
  
“I know,” Tooru said, his voice tight. “You’ve got too many games coming up. Well, you don’t need to worry. It was Sasaki who met me at the station, and he said he’d stop by with another grocery shop for me later today. I dare say more or less everyone knows I’m here by now.”  
  
There was the staticky huff of Iwaizumi sighing more slowly after that. “You need me to have a word with any of them?” he said gently.  
  
“No, no, it’s fine,” Tooru replied, waving his arm for emphasis even though no one was there to see it. “I’ll settle down easier this way. They can get their gossip wrapped up faster and move onto the next bit of news.”  
  
There was a short silence.  
  
“Listen. Don’t…don’t overdo it, yeah? I know they’ve said you can drive again soon, but that isn’t gonna happen if you push yourself too hard.”  
  
Tooru laughed. “Still mothering me from four hundred miles away, Iwa-chan?”  
  
“Well _someone_ has to keep you in line.”  
  
He kept an eye on the half-wound clock as he chatted, twiddling his walking stick with his free hand. Talking to Iwaizumi on the phone again took him back a _long_ way. The last time he’d done so from  this hallway, they’d both been teenagers.  
  
_Urgh. Enough thinking about the past,_ he told himself, as Iwaizumi brought him up to speed with what he’d missed in the solitary day he’d been gone. It was a quick summary—long distance calls were expensive—but Tooru promised to call back as soon as he’d re-registered at their old doctor’s surgery, and settled back into things.  
  
“And don’t forget to _call me_ when they give you the all-clear to drive,” Iwaizumi growled. “No showing up out of the blue, you hear me?”  
  
Tooru huffed. “Technically it’s still my apartment too, you know,” he said. “For now, anyway. I don’t need to ask permission to visit yet.”  
  
“Hey. I’m not gonna replace you just like that, _idiot_ ,” Iwaizumi said. “And I know you’ve got this idea of staying on up there, but…you’re gonna drive yourself stir crazy, that way. You know there’s still a life for you down here. Hell. Even I’ve only got a few years left doing this. Don’t turn into a shut-in just because you’re the first of us getting benched. And don’t do something stupid like offering me money to cover your stake in this apartment—which I know you’re still thinking of doing, don’t deny it—because that’s just bullshit.”  
  
“We already had this conversation,” Tooru said shortly.  
  
“Yeah. And we’ll have it again as many times as it takes for me to get it into your thick skull that you are _too damn young_ to be a hermit like this, okay? Now go eat something. I’m sure you’re already getting into bad habits.”  
  
Tooru glanced over at the living room; through a wide arch which led to the square hall in which he sat. The senbei packet sat innocuously at the foot of the sofa. He’d fallen asleep before even managing to open it.  
  
“Nonsense,” he said, putting as much scorn into his voice as he could manage. “I’ll have you know I’ve been very responsible.”  
  
“Oh I’m sure you have. You’re so on top of everything that you called me promptly last night exactly the way we agreed, so why should I have _any_ reason to worry?” Iwaizumi huffed down the phone line twice; first with obvious irritation, and then more softly. “Just…don’t let things get so bad that someone has to call for me, okay? I don’t want to have to drag your sorry ass back here. You whine too much.”  
  
“So mean!” Tooru cried.  
  
The phone call ended not long afterwards—long distance rates, after all—and he wrapped up the winding of the clock as quickly as he reasonably could. Talking to Iwaizumi about food had reminded him that it had been a _long_ time since he’d eaten. Time for…Oh. Instant ramen. Well, it was probably healthier than senbei.

 

> _  
> XRLYAFMWSTZV-TKINELSTEWHT/LOXRXKZYWAE_  
>    
>  _…VOCODER ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGED._  
>  _TRANSMISSION SECURE._
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Paperwork sorted. You are now officially on leave for the next three weeks. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ Thank you. This…means a lot to me. I know you’re taking on a considerable risk by helping me. _::_
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ Not as big as the one you are—they gave a direct order. And I mean, it’s not too late to stop, you know. You could always actually take the time off you’re claiming to. Call it compassion leave. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ You know damn well why I can’t. _::_
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ Yeah…I guess I do. Good luck. _::_
> 
>  _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED.  
>    
>    
>  _

 

The rest of his settling in took several days. Pride made him drag his suitcases up to his bedroom before Sasaki arrived with the groceries…and the fallout from that exertion left him hobbling around the house for the rest of the afternoon, trying to deny how much pain he was in. It had been easy to stick to a rest and recovery regime while he still had a career to return to. If he no longer had that…what was the point? What was the point in looking after a knee which had already done its worst?  
  
Still. His knee was one thing. The state of the old house was quite another.  
  
Tooru had always preferred things to be neat and tidy. Dust-free. It was a habit most people assumed he’d picked up from living with his grandfather, in the mistaken assumption that such an obviously intelligent, sharp man must have exacting standards. In truth, it had always been the biggest difference between them. Each time Tooru returned home, he’d spent the first week scrubbing every room barring the study—which his grandfather had always refused to let him near with any kind of cleaning implement. He’d always maintained that even dust had its place in the world. Tooru told himself that he was respecting his late grandfather’s wishes by leaving the study alone as he worked his way around the rest of the house, but in truth, it was good to have one less room to sort out. He’d get round to it. Eventually. Just like he’d get round to sorting through the endless boxes of memorabilia stacked in almost every room.  
  
All in all, though, it was a lot easier than he’d supposed to settle back into life in the countryside. He’d been given a list of exercises which would help his knee recover as much as could be expected, and there were plenty of well-meaning folk from the village who made a trip out to the house in his first week, offering help and usually some sort of ‘welcome home’ gift. It hurt his pride to let them, but until he was able to get his car, there didn’t seem to be much of a choice.  
  
The days passed slowly but steadily. It was too quiet, so for the first time in his life he started listening to the radio to fill the silence. Started watching— _really_ watching—television of an evening.  
  
He boxed up all his volleyball memorabilia one night in a fit of bitter resentment, only to unpack it the next, setting every photograph, every trophy back in its place. He slowly, painstakingly pushed the vacuum cleaner around the entire house, pausing only at two doors—the study and the master bedroom. Gritting his teeth both times, he pushed past the rooms.  
  
The nine day wonder which was his return to the community dulled and faded, pushed out of everyone’s mind by more pressing agricultural concerns. It was a little like taking a holiday, he told himself. Like getting a break from the busy city—and nevermind that he didn’t _take_ holidays. As long as he maintained the illusion that he was in control of his life, it wouldn’t be so hard.  
  
It was a clear day, drawing to a close. Tooru sat at the small kitchen table, stewing over the remains of a meal he really wasn’t all that interested in eating. Iwaizumi had phoned earlier, full of news about people and places he wished he weren’t still so emotionally invested in. The volleyball season was in full swing, too, which meant he’d been brought up to speed—albeit with tactful swiftness—with the progress of the team which he ought to have been captaining.  
  
He ought to be the one headed into the regional quarterfinals. _He_ ought to be the one cutting phonecalls short because he needed an early night because of training. _He_ ought—  
  
A silhouette moved past the kitchen window. Tooru started, then shook his head. No. He was just imagining things, surely?  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
That…was not a normal thing to occur. No one went to the front door out in the countryside. Tradition dictated that it was used on two occasions only. Nevertheless, there was no denying that _someone_ had to have rung the bell there: they were ringing it again.  
  
He heaved himself to his feet, grumbling irritably as he snatched up his walking stick. Who in their right mind was pestering him at this time in the evening? And worse still, going to the front door so that he had to use the…the _damn_ stick to see who they were? Well, he was certainly going to give them a piece of his mind.  
  
The irritating mystery visitor knocked on the door when he was halfway across the hall: four rapid taps. Tooru gritted his teeth as he opened the door to the porch and flicked on the outside light.To his immense satisfaction, the dark shape of a person on the far side flinched. Good.  
  
He wrenched open the door.  
  
“Who are you?” he snapped.  
  
His visitor—a tall, quietly handsome young man with dark hair and a smartly tailored suit—flinched again, eyes widening.  
  
“Ah…pardon my intrusion,” he said, bowing. “I am looking for Oikawa-san? My name is, ah, Tanaka Jin, and there is an important business matter I must discuss with him.”  
  
Tooru blinked. “Excuse me? I don’t have any ‘business matters’ to discuss with anyone, so—”  
  
The man cleared his throat and bowed again. “Forgive me. I meant the…ah… _senior_ Oikawa-san.”  
  
“Then your information is severely out of date,” Tooru said shortly, gritting his teeth. This really was too much. “I’m the only Oikawa you’ll find here.”  
  
He moved to close the door, but a hand reached out to stop him.  
  
“Ah. Please…perhaps you can still help me,” Tanaka said, leaning forward. “I simply need to know—”  
  
“Look. Maybe I wasn’t blunt enough before. My grandfather was the other Oikawa-san who used to live here, and he passed away a few months ago. Please just leave.”  
  
Tanaka’s face twisted with shock and dismay. “He…no! No, that can’t be…the records would have—”  
  
“I can assure you, _Tanaka Jin_ ,” Tooru said, sneering, “As the executor of his will, I know damn well what I’m talking about. Now, perhaps you would be so kind as to _leave_ , before I’m forced to report you to the police for harassment. I can assure you that my name carries considerable weight in this community, so they won’t hesitate in coming to my aid.”  
  
The distress and panic was easy to read on Tanaka’s face, but he said nothing more as Tooru shut the door in his face. How dare he. How _dare_ he bother him like that! And making up that nonsense about having business with his grandfather, too. The man had been retired for almost the entire time Tooru had lived with him. All through his childhood he had sat at home, either holing himself up in his study to paint landscapes, or working in the garden.  
  
He was halfway across the hall on the way back to the kitchen when the doorbell rang again. Gripping the stick tightly he took another step away, only to halt when the ringing started up once more, accompanied by a rapid knocking.  
  
Pursing his lips, he wheeled around on his good leg and staggered back through the porch. He wrenched the front door open once more.  
  
“Listen you little _shit_ ,” he said, clutching his walking stick tightly enough that his fingers hurt. “Just leave me alone and stop—”  
  
“ _Please_ ,” Tanaka said. “Just…please listen. I…I need…if what you say is true—and I believe you, I really do, and I’m very sorry for your loss—but this is already my last chance, and maybe…maybe you really can help me.”  
  
Tooru stared at him. Nothing about what he was saying made any sense, and yet there was a desperation in his words which felt far too genuine to be part of some kind of act. The man almost looked like he was about to start _crying_.  
  
“What do you want?” he asked eventually. “Really, I mean. No one gets this worked up over a business deal, do they?”  
  
Tanaka smiled weakly. “Well, you’d be surprised…but, no.” He paused, looking around nervously. “Listen, I appreciate how this must sound, and ah…I promise to respect your wishes if you would rather I leave, but…might I step inside a moment?”  
  
Tooru raised an eyebrow. “Really? You want me to invite you in _now?_ How stupid do you think I am?”  
  
“It’s…I understand. I’m sorry to have troubled you, Oikawa-san.”  
  
There was no missing the disappointment in Tanaka’s voice, but he bowed once and started walking away without looking back. His shoulders drooped, and as he started down the steps along the path Tooru saw him clench both fists, then raise one hand to rub at his face. For the briefest moment he half considered calling him back.  
  
_What the hell?_ he told himself. _That’s the stupidest idea in the world._ He could practically _hear_ Iwaizumi telling him that that was how people got murdered in their own homes.  
  
Still, something prickled at him as he closed the front door and limped back to the remains of his now-cold dinner. He was reasonably sure it was guilt.  
  
_Which is ridiculous,_ he told himself. _I refuse to feel guilty for not listening to some…some scam artist trying to play me for a fool._


	2. GHLAB XVXWZ MWDYX OTDVH XHELO XXITS

 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-TKINELSTEWHT/LOXRXKZYWAE_  
>    
>  _…VOCODER ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGED._  
>  _TRANSMISSION SECURE._  
> 
> 
>  
>
>> RECEIVED::I have the information you wanted, but are you sure this is worth it. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ In all honesty, no. But I have to try. What if he isn’t dead. And even if he is, if he was right… _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ If. Do you hear yourself. You’re risking your whole career—hell, your whole life—on a what-if. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ I’m well aware of the risks. It’s worth it. He would do the same. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Okay okay, fine. I can see there’s no changing your mind. I’ll make the drop in the place we discussed. But, look. You have to face the fact he isn’t coming back. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ I…I know. But at least his warning shouldn’t go in vain. And if he was right then I can clear his name so he’s remembered as he should be—a hero. _::_
> 
> _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED._  
> 

In the city, a strange man showing up out of the blue might not have seemed all that remarkable. It wasn’t as though door to door salesmen were especially unusual. But they were definitely a far less common occurrence in the countryside, where the nearest front door to his own was half a mile’s walk.

Tooru found himself wondering what in the world could have provoked the visit over the next few days—especially when it turned out that the scam artist had _only_ targeted his house. He learnt as much from Sasaki the next time he got a lift into the village for his weekly grocery shop. Much as he might have complained to Iwaizumi about the way gossip spread in rural communities, there was no denying that he benefited from the system too. Especially when he was able to learn that a man answering the same general appearance had visited the greengrocer’s and the butcher’s on the day of his visit, and had seemed interested to hear that “Oikawa-san” was back in the old house.

Still, even with the general absence of any other news, a week or so after the visit, he had almost forgotten about it entirely, distracted by both his most recent doctor’s visit regarding his knee—which hadn’t gone as well as he’d hoped—and the monthly report from the central hospital about his sister.

The letter had been addressed to his grandfather again, which needed to be fixed. Perhaps they’d finally listen to his requests to change her next of kin now that he was writing from the same address. He made a note to request an additional copy of the legal forms the next time he was in town.

Part of him wondered why he bothered. The monthly correspondence had practically turned into a form letter: his sister’s condition remained stable. There were no changes. She had yet to speak of her experiences—or at all, in fact. They would write again in a month, or sooner if there was anything significant to report. They thanked him for his sizable donation to the hospital in the past, and assured him that his sister continued to receive a high quality of care. All that ever changed was the date.

 _If they update their system to show my name instead, will they leave out the line about the donation?_ he mused, filing the letter with all the others. It had been more than ten years since she had become a Runner; ducked through a portal while it lasted to get a taste of an alien world. She was lucky to have come back at all—plenty of people took the chance if they found a portal before the rapid response team arrived to set up a temporary exclusion zone, only to find themselves caught on the far side when the portals inevitably closed.

The temptation had apparently been too great for some even in the days before it was understood what they were; when superstition held that they were windows into limbo or hell, or temptation by the devil for the weak-willed and wicked. Portals never seemed to open onto the same place twice. In fact, out of the countless thousands who had been lost that way over the centuries, only a handful had ever reportedly returned. Of those, several had found themselves displaced by both space and time, walking back into countries and decades which they had never belonged to.

Tooru pushed the thoughts of his sister from his mind with the ease of practice, after making a note about writing to the hospital. It was a rainy night. The last thing he wanted was to get bogged down with depressing matters like _that_. It would only lead to sitting and stewing on everything else which had ever gone wrong, and he’d spent enough evenings that way that he was in danger of proving Iwaizumi right.

 _Maybe I should light a fire_ , he thought, glancing over at the hearth. It was a cold night, especially for the time of year. And while it had also been a while since he’d had the chimney swept, certainly, it wasn’t as though there had been many fires lit in that time either.

Actually managing to get the damn thing going proved considerably more difficult than making a decision, however. After stacking the logs on their bed of old newspapers and other kindling, he stooped over awkwardly with the box of matches, cursing his knee. The flames had barely caught when the doorbell rang, and he flinched, dropping the piece of paper he’d been wafting at them onto the logs, where it half smothered them.

The fact that he already had a pretty good idea who was there even _before_ he had hobbled his way to the porch did not soften his mood.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone,” he snapped, as the door opened to reveal a familiar, albeit rather sodden man, dark curls plastered to the sides of his head.

Tanaka Jin bowed, and then stood straight, reaching down to pat a satchel at his side.

“Please hear me out,” he said. “I promise I have an explanation for my…rude and evasive behaviour last week. I’m afraid I was unable to give you any information before performing certain background checks.”

Tooru gripped the door tightly. “You…you’ve done _what?_ ” he spluttered, sure he had to be mishearing somehow.

Tanaka smiled crookedly. “I’m afraid that is my job, Oikawa-san,” he said, speaking lightly. “If I show you my identification, might I take a little of your time?”

He reached into an inside pocket, and pulled out a nondescript leather wallet, which he flipped open to reveal a badge marked with the government’s seal. Beside it was a plastic photo ID card with the man’s picture. Tooru couldn’t help but notice the name didn’t match the one he had been provided with.

“A—”

“Please respect the fact that I am _outside_ , Oikawa-san, and that voices may carry. I would prefer not to take chances, even in a location and weather such as this.”

Tooru pursed his lips, leaning back slightly so that more of his weight rested on his walking stick. “I think that’s more than a little paranoid,” he muttered, but he swung the door wider to allow the other man indoors. “But…oh, _fine_ , at least stand in the porch where it’s not so wet.”

He stepped back to avoid being dripped on, and closed the door once they were both stood inside.

“My thanks, Oikawa-san.”

“It’s no problem, _Tanaka Jin_ , or should I call you—”

“I would prefer Akaashi, yes. I apologise for my previous deception, but it was necessary. I hadn’t expected to find anyone other than your late grandfather at this address. I thought it best to give an assumed name until I could be certain of your identity and the truth of your words.”

Tooru frowned at him. “Why would I be lying about who I was? What’s the point?”

“He told you nothing, then,” Akaashi said, nodding. There was a note of approval in his voice which got right under Tooru’s skin.

“Look, I appreciate that you’re some kind of government official and you’ve probably got some grand agenda of your own going on,” Tooru snapped, scowling across the porch at the other man. “But if you’re going to come out all this way just to play mysterious with me in my _own damn house_ then I think you’ve sorely misinterpreted whatever background checks you did on me, because I am not the sort of person who puts up with bullshit—no matter who it’s from.”

Akaashi bowed. “Very well, I will be blunt. Much of what I have come here to discuss is covered by the official secrets act, and as such I require your signature assuring me that no word of this meeting will leave this house. Rest assured that, should you break such an agreement, we will know—and you will be arrested on grounds of treason. This is a serious matter. Naturally I understand if you do not wish to continue this conversation.” He cleared his throat. “Although, speaking honestly, I hope you will agree to my terms. We don’t make a habit of involving civilians in government affairs without reason.”

“We,” Tooru said flatly. It was all he could think to say. “You mean…”

“I mean Government Intelligence, yes. Will you sign? Or, rather…do you agree to keep this matter entirely confidential, and not even speak of it to family or your closest friends, most likely for the remainder of your life?”

Akaashi met his eyes levelly, his face devoid of any expression. Tooru found himself wondering if he’d had some sort of training to get that way, or if the government made a point of looking for staff who were naturally hard to read.

“You said you were here because of my grandfather,” he said after a moment. “So…what, I’m supposed to assume he made the same agreement? I mean, if he did then I guess that means he kept it, because I have no idea what this is about. And if you’re here to try and—”

“I can neither confirm nor deny any statements you make without written assurances of your discretion, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said, calmly and levelly. There was something in his expression though—a slight twitch in one eye; a downward movement of the corners of his mouth. Tension across his entire face, and in the way he held his arms.

Tooru was used to reading people’s body language. After all, it was always an advantage to know which of his opponents was closest to breaking, so that he could focus his serves on them and speed that process along. This ‘Akaashi’ stood in front of him was good at presenting a blank slate, but the clues were there, dotted across his mannerisms. He didn’t need to know the man to see that he was struggling to remain composed.

 _But why_ , he wondered. _Because he really has got something important to tell me, or because he’s a fake and thinks I’ll work him out?_

He’d never actually met anyone from the Loelken Empire. The borders had been more or less entirely closed for going on a hundred years, after all. It wasn’t as though it was common for visas to be granted—in _either_ direction. All the same, they were only about fifty miles from the no-go zone. It was certainly _possible_ that the so-called Akaashi was still lying.

Still, the biggest question—no matter who the man in front of him turned out to be—was _why?_ What could anyone _possibly_ want to talk to him about?

“What sort of background checks did you conduct, exactly?” he said at last. That sounded like an innocent enough question, at least.

“Your name is Oikawa Tooru, and you are twenty-six years old, as of the 20th July,” Akaashi replied promptly. “You were orphaned as a young boy—your mother died due to complications following the birth of a stillborn younger sibling, and your father was part of a military convoy targeted by Loelken troops. As a direct result, at age five, you and your older sister came to live with your grandfather in this same house. You remain in _very_ close contact with your childhood friend, Iwaizumi Hajime,”—he raised an eyebrow at this, although the tone of his voice did not alter— “with whom you share an apartment in the capital. Some eight years ago now, your sister became a Runner. She was hospitalised following her experiences, due to an unexplained and so far incurable altered state of mind, which has left her in a near-vegetative state. Her son—your nephew—currently lives with his father in the capital as well, but you do not keep in touch despite the close proximity of your homes. You recently retired from a professional volleyball career, following a knee injury which surgery was unable to fix. You have no criminal record, although you do have a minor speeding infraction on your driver’s licence, and were issued with a parking ticket on the day of your knee injury—which was successfully appealed. I could continue, but I believe I have most likely made my point.”

Akaashi smiled thinly. “Incidentally, no. The majority of these facts are _not_ of a sort which could be easily obtained by Loelken agents. And the only publicly available information is that regarding your recent retirement.”

Tooru swallowed, feeling a little sick. That was a _lot_ of personal information to just rattle off without apparent thought. How much else did this Akaashi person know? How had he even found out half of it? His sister had already been married when she Ran. He wasn’t even sure where those records would be _held_.

 _And apparently he found all that in a week,_ he thought, gritting his teeth. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that the government had the resources to pull up so much information so quickly. It was an unsettling reality to be confronted with nonetheless.

“I’ll sign,” he said at last. No doubt Akaashi had planned things so that he would be too curious to resist. “The kitchen’s this way, unless you want to keep a _cripple_ standing out here a little while longer?”

Akaashi raised his eyebrows. “A curious way to refer to yourself, Oikawa-san,” he said softly. “But by all means, lead on.”

Tooru gritted his teeth, and led the way into the kitchen. _This had better be good,_ he thought, settling into a chair at the kitchen table with a muffled groan.

After settling in the chair opposite, Akaashi pulled out an envelope which contained several sheets of paper. “I have explained the general gist of what will happen should you break this agreement, but I suggest you read it carefully nonetheless,” he said. “It will require your signature in the marked places, and a copy of your fingerprints, for our records.”

The paper was densely printed, with very little spacing between the paragraphs. Tooru was relieved to see that most of the second page was given over to spaces for his fingerprints to be recorded.

“…It says here about photographic identification?” he said after a few minutes.

“Ah, yes,” Akaashi replied. He opened his satchel and pulled out both a polaroid camera and a small, rectangular object the size of a wallet. It had what looked rather like a lens set into one side. “The polaroid will provide a temporary image, but I will take further shots with this.”

“That’s a _camera?_ ” Tooru said, staring at it. It was thinner even than a roll of film. How did it manage to work?

Akaashi nodded. “There are perks,” he said, smiling crookedly for a moment, before his face fell. “…And there are hazards—which brings me to the matter I wish to discuss. You’ve signed and agreed. We can get to the photographs later.”

“So, what, you’ve stuck with the protocol to the letter this far, and now it can go hang?” Tooru said, shifting in his chair. “You know if you turn out to be a fake, I promise you, knee or no knee, I can hold my—”

“There is no deceit, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said flatly. “But this _is_ a time-sensitive matter. If you are able to help me, I will need that assistance promptly. I can’t afford any more delays.”

“You still haven’t explained what kind of help you actually want though,” Tooru replied, grabbing the pen and scrawling his signature at the end of the document. “You’re dancing around this rather a lot for—”

“Your late grandfather was one of our agents,” Akaashi said, silencing him instantly. “He retired from the field twenty-one years ago—yes, the dates match up to the point at which you and your sister started living with him—but he remained in service to the government until the time of his death, forwarding communications and working on…other tasks. ”

Tooru gaped. The pen fell from his hand and rolled across the table, clattering to the floor a few seconds later. Akaashi met his startled expression with a level gaze.

“I think you’ve made a mistake,” Tooru said eventually, struggling to regain his composure. “My…my grandfather was a _painter_. He worked with landscapes, not government secrets.”

Akaashi leant forward on the table. “Oikawa-san, I understand this is a lot to take in. But your grandfather was a confidential agent in the pay of the government, and he was also the last point of contact for one of our field agents who failed to return from a mission behind enemy lines.”

Shocked as he was, Tooru found himself bristling almost immediately at those words. “Are you suggesting he was _corrupt?_ ” he spluttered. “You have no idea—”

“Not at all,” Akaashi said quickly, raising his hands. “Quite the opposite. Your grandfather was a highly patriotic and dedicated man, by all accounts. No, my hope is that…that somewhere in his paperwork there may be a clue as to what happened to our agent. He successfully relayed several messages out of the Loelken Empire through your grandfather, but the last to reach us suggested that further communication would be impossible, and that he would have to report his findings in person. That…failed to happen.”

They both stayed silent for long minutes. Tooru was reasonably sure by the expression on Akaashi’s face that he was being given time to process the bombshell which had just been dropped on him. A ‘confidential agent’? That meant _spy_ , didn’t it? That…that definitely meant spy. And if he’d been in the field—shit, ‘the field’ probably meant the Loelken Empire. And he’d given it up because his only son had been killed by Loelken troops, and he’d been left to raise his grandchildren alone.

Half of him wanted to deny it, partly because it seemed ridiculous and partly because having to keep _this_ a secret from Iwaizumi was going to be almost impossible. But the rest of him was working at double speed already, setting the information against the man he had always known his grandfather to be and finding that it really did make an odd sort of sense. He’d been a man of integrity and honour, after all. He’d drummed that into Tooru well enough over the years. Keeping his word, and trying his hardest at whatever he set his mind to, right up to the end—

“ _Oh_ ,” he said, feeling sick. “Your agent. He…if he didn’t know that my grandfather had passed away…”

Akaashi shook his head. “No, his return didn’t rely on contact or liaison with your grandfather. I’m afraid it’s a little more _complicated_ than that, but…that’s not information you need to know. What I _will_ need from you is access to your home so that I can find whatever paperwork your grandfather might have had. Granted, he moved here long before you were born, but if you know of any modifications which were made to the house, that would also speed the process along. The most sensitive data will almost certainly be concealed in some form of hidden compartment within the building, not necessarily within his usual workspace.”

Tooru leant forward and rested his arms on the table, frowning. There it was. _This_ was why the situation he’d found himself in didn’t make any sense.

“No offence, but if this is really such a secret and that’s all you want from me, why are you even asking? Why not find some excuse to get me out of here and then come back and do your searching while I was gone? You pulled up all that information about my life in a _week_. Now, I’m not stupid enough to talk about this, but if I were? If this is such a secret matter, I’m a risk you don’t need. And even the police can search a house with just a warrant. You’re telling me the secret service is even lower down the pecking order than that? I don’t buy it.”

He watched Akaashi’s face carefully. Hard to read as the other man might be, he wasn’t _completely_ impenetrable. There was a slight widening of the eyes. A brief glance to the side. His breath hitched a little. They were tells about something, he was sure. But what? Surprise? Amusement? Was Akaashi lying after all? He didn’t know the man well enough to judge, and he _really_ didn’t like the feeling of ignorance it gave him.

“You’re a rather astute man, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said levelly. “A credit to your upbringing, no doubt. But I don’t have time to explain our reasons and motivations. It would take too long. Might I begin my search tonight?”

Tooru pursed his lips. “You’re Intelligence,” he said flatly. “You don’t really _need_ my permission. You could just…just go and look through everything anyway. Who am I going to complain to? I don’t even know what you’re looking for, or whether it’s actually here. You just showed up out of the blue with that _delightful_ Mysterious-san act of yours.”

Akaashi bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I appreciate this…must be difficult for you. Please believe me when I say that I wouldn’t have involved you if there were any other choice. I’m asking permission because, government agent or otherwise, I respect that I have intruded on your grief. Now, please. Your grandfather must have had a workroom. If you have no objections it would be best to start there, and your assistance would be greatly appreciated, although I can’t be certain that anything will be easily found. What I’m searching for would be…” He sighed heavily, squeezing the camera in his hand, then looked up with his face set into a frown.

“Look, either tell me or don’t, but stop this dancing around the point,” Tooru snapped, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. “I get it. Your whole job is about being mysterious and secretive and now you’ve got some dumb order where you have to explain the bare minimum to me and you hate it. Well, you can either tell me what I need to know so can I help you look, and then I _keep my damn word_ and don’t tell anyone, or you can go up to the study—it’s the first door you come to as you head up the stairs—and you can sort it all out yourself. I don’t care any more.”

He snatched up his walking stick and turned on his good heel, doing his best to march out of the kitchen without too visible a limp. To hell with good manners. To hell with being a host, or offering refreshments, or _any_ of it all. The whole situation was unbelievable anyway. If he’d been the sort of person to dream, he would have wondered whether he’d nodded off in the living room and it was all some sort of hallucination, brought on by taking his painkillers on an empty stomach again.

 _Maybe I should take Iwa-chan up on his offer after all,_ he thought, noticing with surprise that the fire had actually caught in his absence. The logs were burning merrily, filling the living room with warmth and light he hadn’t even been there to enjoy. Well. That just about figured.

“Oikawa-san, the reason I haven’t explained this in detail is that I don’t _know_ precisely what information I am looking for,” said a voice behind him.

It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to flinch. He hadn’t even heard Akaashi get up, let alone follow him.

 _I suppose he_ is _a spy_ , he thought. _They probably teach sneaking around right alongside being evasive and holding that poker face of his._

He reached the three steps up into the living room, and braced himself on the wall as he turned around. It was reassuring to have a bit extra height over the man.

“For someone who has a detailed breakdown of my whole life, there’s a surprising amount you don’t seem to know, isn’t there?” he said. “You didn’t know my grandfather was dead. Don’t know what happened to your lost agent. Don’t know where to find the information you want…and now you don’t even know what it is? This is all doing _wonders_ for my faith in our government, I must say.”

Akaashi regarded him carefully, his expression unwavering. The man’s self control was quite impressive—which, actually, made the burst of emotion he’d shown the week before all that much more inexplicable, now that he thought about it.

“Oikawa-san. I have already explained that this is a matter which concerns state secrets. I have no current reason to doubt you when you say you won’t repeat anything you hear, but in truth, the less I tell you, the better for both of us. This information is a burden you _do not want_. Your grandfather was not so unprofessional as to store sensitive documents in such a way as you would be able to learn anything from them at a glance, so I judged the risk low enough to ask for a second pair of eyes. I asked for your assistance in searching solely because I believed you would know if you uncovered paperwork which seemed out of place. As for why I don’t know what I’m looking for—I am unsure as to how the senior Oikawa-san would have stored sensitive information. What I seek could take the form of encrypted text on paper or a tape, rolls of film…perhaps even a vocal recording on a cassette, or a combination of the above. That is the most specific I can be. Your grandfather’s work was conducted in private, and he operated with…considerable autonomy from what I have gathered.”

Tooru frowned at him. “You’re telling me it could be _anything?_ Just how long are you planning to keep looking for?”

“I…” Akaashi looked down. “With your permission, as long as it takes, although I would hope to complete a thorough enough search within a few days.”

 _‘With my permission’_ , he thought. _As though I really have a choice about this._

“And where exactly are you planning to sleep?” he asked. “Assuming I actually _do_ have any say in what’s going on, I draw the line at strange, mysterious men sent by the government sleeping in my house.”

Akaashi nodded stiffly. “I quite understand. I have made…arrangements.”

“Right.” Tooru raised an eyebrow and looked over at the clock in the hallway. “Well, if you want to make a start, the study is probably best. It’s where most of his paperwork was kept, aside from the attic space. And it’s a bit late to take a look up in the rafters, don’t you think?”

The moment the words left his mouth he felt the sinking regret of someone who knows they’ve made a mistake. To judge by the other man’s expression, it would never be too late to take a look in strangers’ attics. Still. It might have been the most surreal and possibly fictitious evening of his life, but come what may, Tooru was determined to retain at least _some_ control over what was going on.

“Okay, to clarify, you’re _not_ going up there now,” he said quickly. “I don’t care how urgent all this is, you said you wanted to search my whole damn house anyway, so you can start in the places which _don’t_ involve venturing up into dark, dusty places full of who knows what. No one’s even _looked_ up there for decades. It can wait a day or two longer. Maybe you won’t even need to, and I can get away with not having all that muck trampled over the carpets.”

He smiled, broadly and falsely—firmly squashing the inner voice which pointed out he was arguing with a government agent who could probably make him vanish if need be. “So you can agree with me, or you can come back tomorrow, okay?”

 _Honestly_ , he told himself, _the man looks far too mild-mannered to argue with me. I bet he’s never disagreed with anyone in his life._

 


	3. GHLAB XVXHC PMRIW AVLIL LMSWP XMMRH TDKTV

To his relief, Akaashi agreed to starting the search in the study. Still, it felt oddly _wrong_ to barge in and disturb things—Tooru hadn’t set foot in the room since well before his grandfather had died, and it remained exactly as he must have left it the day before he’d died. There was still unsmoked tobacco in the pipe which sat on the desk, and a pen dipped into an inkwell which had almost entirely dried out. A veil of dust covered everything; fine yet, but still visible as a faint silvery-grey sheen. With the rain still lashing down outside it was surprisingly creepy, especially for a room which had once represented security. As a boy, he’d often sat in the armchair doing homework while his grandfather worked at the desk.  
  
“It’s undisturbed?” Akaashi said, raising his eyebrows as they both entered and looked around. “Despite your injuries, the rest of the house is in a far cleaner state—”  
  
“He didn’t like anyone tidying this room but himself,” Tooru said. “And when he died I guess I just…didn’t like to touch it. He had a system of sorts. I always used to think it was just…just him wanting to be awkward, maybe, but from everything you’ve told me I suppose I wouldn’t be all that surprised if there really were something hidden in here which he never wanted me to see. ”  
  
“We can only hope that you’re correct. These shelves—were they constructed flush against the wall?”  
  
Tooru nodded. “I’ve seen them come down once or twice. When I was fifteen or so we rearranged all the books in here. I helped him move some of them around. They’re all pretty solid.”  
  
Akaashi frowned. “Fifteen…at that time he would have been—I suppose it’s unlikely that he would have concealed anything behind them, but we shouldn’t rule out the possibility. He stopped sending regular reports on his work about eight years ago, and he could have moved the units alone while you were out of the property.”  
  
Tooru shifted uncomfortably. There was something even more wrong than being in the room about discussing his grandfather so matter-of-factly. It was alright for Akaashi. He didn’t have any history with the man. But for—  
  
—But he had, hadn’t he? From the way he spoke it sounded as though he were pretty familiar with his grandfather’s activities. How else would that be the case than if they’d worked together at some point?  
  
_Although I can’t say Akaashi looks old enough to have been working for the government that long. He doesn’t look any older than I am, that’s for sure._  
  
Tooru opened a cupboard in the corner of the study, beneath the window. It was full of boxes marked “photographs” in his grandfather’s neat hand.  
  
Half of him expected the label on the box to be a cover for something far more interesting, but when he lifted the list, aside from a small cloud of dust, there was nothing more than several neat stacks of pictures, some of which were bound together with string. An album sat in one end of the box, with ‘wedding’ embossed in gold letters on the spine.  
  
Tooru sighed. A wonderful box of nostalgia, certainly, but not what they were there for. Not was the next box, or the three in the cupboard next to it which apparently contained school reports for not only himself and his sister, but his father, too. Useless. Still, what exactly were they expecting to find? A big box marked “Secret and Confidential, Don’t Touch”?  
  
“Look, I really don’t know what we’re hoping to achieve in here,” he said after ten minutes so. Boxes littered the floor, and he’d been forced to hobble out of the room and fetch the vacuum cleaner after all, just so they didn’t choke on the dust. He dragged it back into the room and plugged it in at the wall. “Do you really think that he would have just left something which is a state secret lying around his study for anyone to find?”  
  
Akaashi shook his head grimly. “It’s not that simple. Sometimes, hiding something in plain sight is the most effective method of all. If it’s not apparent that what you’re looking at _is_ important, you set it aside again. But…” He trailed off, staring at the corner of the room. “Oh. We’re on the right track, I’m sure of it.”  
  
Tooru stared at him. “What?” he asked. “There’s nothing in here but memorabilia, so far as I can tell.”  
  
“Exactly.” Akaashi got to his feet, dusting off his hands. He pointed to one of the landscapes on the wall. “Would you mind if we took this down and gave it a closer look? I’ve seen those mountains before.”  
  
“Well it’s common enough to paint real locations you know—”  
  
“I saw them in a photograph which was purported to be of another world.”  
  
Tooru swallowed uneasily. “Taken through a portal?”  
  
Akaashi shook his head. “I can’t go into specifics. I simply need you to understand that what we’re looking for could _be_ considered memorabilia for him. It relates to his travels in Loelken territory.”  
  
“So not only are portals involved, the Loelken Empire is too,” Tooru said, scowling at the painting. “How wonderful.”  
  
“You’re not fond, I take it,” Akaashi said, gently unhooking the painting from the wall. He looked up, and blinked as Tooru folded his arms and glowered.  
  
“Well what do _you_ think? You were the one rattling off my life’s story earlier. If you remember it all so well you should know exactly what makes this so...” He trailed off, too concerned with keeping his voice level to know how to finish the sentence.  
  
Akaashi hung his head, pressing the picture against his chest. “My apologies. I neglected to say so before, but please believe me when I say I _am_ sorry for your losses. Even so, I do hope you understand that in part, my goal is to bring an end to this war altogether.”  
  
Tooru snorted. “End it? Oh _please_ , whole legions of diplomats have been trying to do that for decades. What makes you so certain it’s possible now? Nothing’s changed. Nothing will ever change. It’s a hopeless dream.”  
  
There was silence for a few seconds, before Akaashi knelt down again and propped the painting up against a box. “I will keep hoping for it nonetheless,” he said quietly. “It seems a better option than giving up.”  
  
There wasn’t really anything Tooru could say to that which didn’t sound petty. He looked away, glowering at the hateful walking stick beside him, and pulled another box closer. It was all very well going on about hope. But life had already proven to him that sometimes giving up was the _only_ option.  
  
_He’s obviously never really lost anything before_ , he thought sourly. _Well good for him._  


 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-TKINELSTEWHT/LOXRXKZYWAE_  
>    
>  _…VOCODER ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGED._  
>  _TRANSMISSION SECURE._
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ He let me in. It’s worth it. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ You found something then. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ Not yet. Honestly, there’s so much to sort through it’s almost insurmountable. I have to be too discrete to get any real help. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ You know you’ve only got another eleven days. Ten if you’re realistic. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ I’ll find it by then. I have to. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ In all honesty, I can’t afford to think about what will happen if I don’t. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Listen, I’ll think up the contingency plans. You focus on the job in front of you. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ No, I’m not dragging you into this any more than I have already. It wouldn’t be fair. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Sure. Course, you know I’ll work on them anyway. I’ve already lost one good friend. I’d rather not lose another, especially like this. _::_
> 
> _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED._  
> 

 

Akaashi arrived at the door to Tooru’s kitchen early the following morning, looking as though he hadn’t slept at all. The jacket of his suit was crumpled, and his hair was wet still. Tooru sighed as he opened the door, still clad in his pyjamas and a dressing gown.

“Where was it you said you were sleeping again?” he asked, waving the other man indoors.

“I didn’t say,” Akaashi replied. He bowed before walking inside. “I am sorry to trouble you earlier than we had arranged, but I really must press on with my work.”

“You might as well carry the rest of the boxes from yesterday downstairs,” Tooru said, shaking his head. “There’s more space in the living room, and when they’re out of the way you can check the room for…whatever other secret things you think my grandfather hid in there. I’ll sit and go through the rest while you’re at it. After I’m dressed, at least.”

 Akaashi bowed again. “My thanks. Truly, I mean to take up as little of your time as possible.”

Tooru shrugged. “I had to sort through it all at some point anyway,” he said, waving his free hand in an attempt to get the other man to stop. “At least this way I have a reason beyond clearing it out and selling the place. I would have done it at the time, but the season was just getting started, and then…well.” He looked down, scowling bitterly at the walking stick he was leaning on before forcing a smile to his face. “Still, lucky for you that I didn’t, eh?”

Akaashi stared at him, face ashen. He cleared his throat. “Yes. Very…very fortunate. Excuse me. I should get to work.”

By the time Tooru emerged from his bedroom, the study looked considerably neater than it had when he’d called a halt the night before. The boxes which they had abandoned in the middle of the floor were either pushed to one side or missing altogether. As he stood there, feeling strangely empty, Akaashi walked in, brushing his hands on his trousers.

“I thought it best to be methodical about this,” he said, folding his arms and looking around the room rather than at Tooru himself. “I’ve started to carry the boxes down and stack them in the living room. That way we can work through and return them as we go. By the time my work is complete, I hope to restore the room to as close to its original state as possible.”

Tooru eyed the vacuum cleaner. “Aside from the dust,” he remarked.

“Even dust returns, given enough time. Although—time. That’s it!” Akaashi reached out and grabbed his shoulder. “Is this room the only one which you didn’t clean? Or…is anything stored in the outbuildings? There are two barns, what’s kept inside them? If I could take a look—”

“The only other room in the house which I haven’t been into to clean is the master bedroom,” Tooru said, raising an eyebrow. Good grief, the man was obsessed. Were _all_ spies like this? “The barns…well, one of them’s full of old junk and firewood, and the other is where the gas and water tanks are. I don’t think anything could really be out there, but you’re welcome to look, I suppose. I’m warning you though, my grandfather wasn’t exactly mobile towards the end of his life. I seriously doubt he would have been able to hide anything there.”

Akaashi nodded. “That doesn’t concern me. Most of the information I’m searching for would date from the time he was conducting reconnaissance activity, or in the years immediately following it. Past that, most of the reports he sent were based on theory alone.”

There it was again. Akaashi’s words seemed like they were honest, but they just felt _wrong_.

Tooru folded his arms, narrowing his eyes as he stared Akaashi down. “Okay, now just hold up a moment. You’re saying he sent all his work to you lot so that other people could see it. Doesn’t that mean it was all stored in…wherever it is you keep all your information? I might be just a harmless _civilian_ , but I’m not stupid. Why do you need to search here when there are bound to be copies of everything my grandfather worked on somewhere much easier for you to look? Did they all mysteriously get destroyed or something?”

He leant forward, noting the widening of Akaashi’s eyes, and the way the other man tangled his fingers together. A nervous tic?

“Something’s been wrong about all this from the start,” he added, clenching his walking stick tightly. “And if you can’t explain what’s going on, maybe you should leave. If I really don’t have to put up with this, I don’t see why I should.”

For long moments, neither of them moved. Akaashi stared at him, seemingly frozen in place. His face had gone grey. Because he’d been caught out?

Tooru lifted his hand to point at the door. “I’d like you to get out of my house,” he said, gritting his teeth. “This is—”

“Wait!” Akaashi said, raising his own hands. The neutral expression was gone; his face twisted with obvious panic. “Just…just hear me out. I can explain, I promise. But I need to know that you’ll listen until the end. It—it’s something of a complicated story.”

He was sorely tempted to refuse. So far, Akaashi had fed him, potentially, nothing but a string of lies—safeguarded by the claim that everything he’d said was a state secret, and that talking about it was a crime. Why should he listen to any more? If Iwaizumi were there, he’d probably have quite literally picked the other man up and thrown him out.

“Fine,” he found himself snapping instead. He could almost hear Iwaizumi yelling at him that he was an idiot, but who cared? It wasn’t as though he actually had anything better to do with his day. Why not listen to some more nonsense and have something to stew on later? “We’ll talk in the living room. I’m not standing in here while you trot out your excuses.”

“Of course,” Akaashi said, nodding. He backed out of the room, gesturing for Tooru to head downstairs first.

They both stayed silent until they were seated. Tooru sank onto his chair with a barely repressed wince, and rubbed the crook of his knee. He’d definitely overdone it the day before, sitting awkwardly on the floor in the study as they moved the boxes around.

Akaashi perched on the edge of the chair nearest him, with his hands clasped on his knees. He leant forward slightly, frowning. “I owe you something of an apology,” he said.

“ _I’ll_ say you do,” Tooru replied, folding his arms. “So, what, was everything you told me completely made up? Who the hell are you really?”

“I lied about only one thing,” Akaashi said. “Excluding the story I gave you last week, that is. My name _is_ Akaashi Keiji, and I _am_ a government agent. Everything I told you about your grandfather and the missing agent is also true—which is why I was forced to be evasive until I had proof that you wouldn’t speak about this to anyone. The agreement you signed was real, as are its conditions. Where I lied…” He looked away, briefly, and sighed. “It was a lie of omission more than anything. What I neglected to tell you is that I am not operating under the orders of any superiors. This…this search is one I am conducting without approval.”

Tooru inhaled so sharply that he choked. It took him several seconds to regain his breath, coughing and wheezing. “You _what?_ ” he screeched, loudly enough that Akaashi flinched. “You mean to tell me you just _decided_ to tell me state secrets which it’s treason to share?” His stomach lurched. “Wait. You made me an accessory to _treason_. So now, what, you’ve set this up to make sure I’m going to help because you’re basically blackmailing me?”

“That’s not it at all,” Akaashi said. “If there had been another way—I never intended to drag you into this at all, I promise. When I first arrived, I honestly believed I would be greeting your grandfather, a fellow agent who already knew all about everything involved.” He closed his eyes, hanging his head. “I didn’t have access to his file before coming here. I had no idea that he had passed away.”

“Well you’d better have a _damn_ good reason for coming back, because you sure as hell didn’t have that excuse last night,” Tooru snapped. He wasn’t sure if he was more angry or terrified. People didn’t really acknowledge the work Intelligence did very often, but he’d heard his fair share of hushed stories about people going missing after encountering things they shouldn’t have seen.

“I can’t speak for your opinion, but _I_ believed it was a worthwhile reason,” Akaashi said. “It concerns the missing agent I mentioned. About six months ago, he sent out a distress call. He was in deep cover, the sort where he _received_ messages rather than sending them, but we were able to intercept it because it was broadcast on all Loelken frequencies. As it happens, your grandfather reported it too, from a short-range frequency which never usually hosted anything worthwhile.”

Tooru swallowed uncomfortably. Six months ago. He’d been working almost literally up until his death, and never breathed a word.

“The agent made reference to an imminent attack by Loelken forces,” Akaashi went on, “and urged a preemptive strike. The evidence supporting this request was to be delivered in person after an immediate extraction. He never showed up. My superiors eventually decided that, based on the fact this was sent out on Loelken frequencies, and encouraged us to make an unprovoked strike on a site almost one hundred miles over the border, that this was evidence the agent was in fact a traitor. That the message was designed to provoke us into making an unwarranted attack, and giving the Loelken military the justification to retaliate.”

Tooru frowned. “Well, they wouldn’t have suggested that without reason, would they? How can you be sure this agent of yours wasn’t—”

“He’s one of my closest friends,” Akaashi said flatly. “I’ve known him for years. This…it’s impossible. I won’t believe it. I _can’t_ believe it. And there is evidence to suggest his message really was a warning. The difficulty is that it’s evidence which my superiors were never convinced by. It relates to your grandfather’s research. He…he believed that there is a way to keep portals open indefinitely, and that the Loelken Empire has long since known about it. That for years they have been developing a method by which they can turn this knowledge against us somehow.”

“That’s…” Tooru stopped. He leant forward, sneering. “That’s ridiculous. Portals are a force of nature. You can’t _control_ them. How are you meant to take control of a…a rift between two different worlds? That’s like saying you can take charge of how much heat comes out of the sun, or that you can stop a tree from growing, or put a halt to the tides! You can’t _affect_ those things.”

Akaashi raised his eyebrows. “Oikawa-san, at one time, it was commonly held knowledge that it was impossible to harness the power of the atom, and yet, even now, millions around the world derive their electricity from nuclear power plants. Your grandfather had evidence that portals might be controlled. A material—a mineral, in fact, which is found solely at one site in Loelken territory. Its chemical structure is quite unlike anything else in the world.”

He paused, and one corner of his mouth twitched downward. The slight frown lines between his eyebrows deepened. “He was able to obtain a sample of the mineral, but not enough for our tests to be conclusive. Had circumstances been otherwise, he would have returned to deep cover in order to find more, but…your father…”

Tooru flinched. It wasn’t so much the reference to his loss—he’d been too young to ever really have remembered his father much, and he’d spoken to enough therapists in the last few months that, especially compared to more recent traumas, he more or less felt that he had dealt with it. No, it was the thought that his grandfather had been on to something important, and forced to abandon it because of _him_. It was like being told you were responsible for someone’s death. In fact, thinking about it, it was more or less _exactly_ what he was being told.

Akaashi gripped the material of his trousers tightly. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice low. “I know your family history makes my deception worse. I had no wish to bring up painful topics. But I truly believe that somewhere in this house is enough evidence—or research, or _something_ —put together by your grandfather in the years following his partial retirement. If there is conclusive evidence that the portals can be held open, it would lend legitimacy to our agent’s final report.”

“I don’t see how,” Tooru said.

Akaashi nodded. “I’m probably explaining this badly. You see, the place our agent wanted us to attack is the exact site your grandfather visited. The location of these supposedly persistent portals. We’ve been aware of the site for some time. Our planes have surveyed the area, and can only see large warehouses and several stone ruins. So an agent—my friend—was sent to more thoroughly investigate. I believe he was trying to get a message out when he was apprehended. The broadcast cut off abruptly in the middle of a word. I…it’s probable he was killed before he could finish sending it and escape as he’d planned.” He let his head fall into his hands, rubbing at his face.

Tooru rubbed at his knee as he thought. “So, your missing agent—your friend—is dead,” he said, swallowing. “No offence, but if its too late to help him, why are you doing this? And why now? You just said this all happened six months ago.”

Akaashi turned to look at all the boxes on the living room floor between them. “If something happened to your friend. To…his name is Iwaizumi, yes?” He looked back over at Tooru for confirmation, eyes notably redder than they had been before. “Right. Well, if you knew him to be the most honest, brave, and honourable person you’d ever met, and then he was accused of high treason and was unable to defend himself due to being lost behind enemy lines, don’t you think you’d want to clear his name? Even posthumously? Besides. The chance is small, but there isn’t actually any concrete evidence he was killed.”

He stared up at the ceiling, and his voice cracked slightly as he continued: “Perhaps…perhaps he fled in the middle of sending that message, rather than allowing himself to be caught. Perhaps he’s still there, unable to get back. Perhaps he _was_ captured. He might be a prisoner of the Loelken Empire. He might be being _tortured_. I want to know what happened. And it’s not simply that. Impossibly hard as it would be, I could have accepted losing him if it were only a personal concern. But there’s also the message itself. Assuming all the above are the only possible reasons behind his disappearance—assuming he is not a traitor, as I _have_ to do—he was sending out an urgent warning. There’s a very real danger that if we ignore this message, that whatever it was he set out to prevent will go unchecked.”

The room fell silent in the wake of Akaashi’s words. Just the ticking of the clock, and outside, the rustling of leaves.

“So why aren’t the government looking into this then?” Tooru said at last. “I mean, what you’re saying makes sense. If he was that insistent, shouldn’t they at least check it out?”

“Oh, we did,” Akaashi said dryly. He rolled his eyes. “We sent a few more planes over to look at the area. Nothing seems to have changed. It’s the same old warehouses, the same old ruins. No signs of any troops, or weapons, or anything of any note at all. This is the problem. My superiors refuse to entertain the notion that there _is_ a way to hold open portals indefinitely. And if they assume such, they are overlooking a very fundamental flaw in searching the site from the air.”

It took a few seconds for what Akaashi was getting at to sink in. When it did, Tooru sank back into his chair, feeling oddly lightheaded. This was all getting to be too much.

“You think that whatever it is they’re working on is on the other side, where it can’t be seen?” he said. “But…like I said, this was six months ago, right? Why are you only doing something _now?_ ”

“I tried—more than once, in fact. I wasn’t alone in defending him, and pointing this out, but I was among the loudest, and I was the first. Unfortunately, the fact we were close friends counted strongly against me. I was accused of delusion; of my grief getting the best of me. One or two people even suggested I might be a double agent myself. I was ordered to drop the subject entirely, or risk a court martial.” He clenched his fists, and there was no missing the flash of anger in his expression.

“So I took matters into my own hands. Another friend and fellow agent forged papers to cover my absence. He also conducted the background checks to ensure you were safe to confide in. As it happens, much of the information was stored in your grandfather’s file, once we knew that we needed to look for it. The confidentiality agreement you signed is legitimate, by the way. If will cover you if this goes wrong. All you’ll need to say is that you were presented with evidence of who I am, and who I work for. My signature corroborates it. If I can’t find the proof I need, it will fall on _my_ head, not yours, although I suspect you would be called to give evidence at my hearing. I won’t deny deceiving you if that happens.”

Tooru stared at him. “You’re remarkably calm about this for someone who faces life in prison if they’re caught,” he said flatly.

Akaashi smiled weakly. “It’s not prison, if I’m caught,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “They won’t admit this in public at all, but if I’m found out, they’ll probably shoot me rather than risk imprisoning me where I could spill even more state secrets.”

 _This is the most messed up day of my life_ , Tooru thought, staring at the other man open-mouthed.

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this despite _knowing_ you’re literally putting your life on the line?” he managed eventually, the words sounding strained. “They’ll actually kill you?”

“I considered the alternatives before me,” Akaashi said, although his voice wasn’t quite as level as it had been at the start of their conversation. “If I’m right, and my friend was doing his best to warn us of something important, it’s worth the risk. This could mean the difference between a Loelken attack being successful or not. It is, quite literally, a matter of national security. Many more lives than my own are at stake here. It’s the right thing to do.”

Tooru nodded slowly. “This is…this is pretty hard to believe, I won’t lie,” he said. “Two days ago I had no idea about _any_ of what you’re telling me, and now apparently I’m caught up in…” He stopped, and shook his head. “I guess that doesn’t matter for now. You said you needed my help. What can I do?”

The expression on Akaashi’s face was that of a starving man being offered food. “You’ll _help_ me?”

Tooru levered himself to his feet and walked over, looking down at the other man with as haughty an expression as he could manage under the circumstances. “You’re in my house, aren’t you?” he said. “Honestly, you ought to believe me, seeing as I’m currently your host. It’s only good manners.”

Without warning, Akaashi leapt to his feet and wrapped his arms around Tooru, pressing his face into his shoulder. Tooru yelped, stepping back onto his good leg to avoid falling.

“Thank you,” Akaashi muttered into his shirt. “I don’t know that I can fully express my gratitude. This is… _thank you_.”

“All right, all right,” Tooru squeaked. “But…bad knee!”

Akaashi let go abruptly, and stepped back. “Oh—of course! I’m so sorry. Here, can I—is there anything I can do?”

Tooru smirked at him. “Well. You could start by telling me your friend’s name. If you’re willing to do all this for him, you owe me that, right?”

“The name won’t mean anything to you,” Akaashi said, looking uneasy. “And we don’t usually mention them,where possible. But…his name was Bokuto Koutarou.”

Tooru nodded. “Was? You were saying ‘is’ just now.”

Akaashi sighed. “The friend who’s helping me suggested that I try not to get my hopes up. I want to believe he’s still alive, but…it’s been six months since his distress call. There really isn’t much hope _left_ at this point.”

“I like ‘is’ better anyway,” Tooru said stubbornly. If he was really going to do this, there was no sense in going in halfway. He hadn’t felt so driven since before his operation. “I’m sick of giving up on people. I’m sick of giving up at anything, in fact. If there’s a chance, however small, you won’t get there by not believing in it. Now. Seeing as I basically know everything now anyway, you might as well tell me more about what we’re looking for. I have to admit, even leaving aside the fact this is all technically treason, you’ve got me intrigued.”

This time Akaashi actually smiled, albeit only faintly. “Well, as I said before, I don’t really know. I was never cleared to look at your grandfather’s research directly, and—it’s probably safer to just call him my go-between or contact at this point—he wasn’t able to access all of it either. It’s high-clearance material. But if it’s evidence of portals remaining open, it’s got to be…think along the lines of the picture on the wall. Perhaps there’s the photo reference for it here, still. That’s the one thing I _did_ see. There’s a copy of a photograph depicting those exact mountains in my superior’s office. Something along those lines, at least. Maybe he retained the negatives somewhere. I don’t know how much your grandfather would have kept private. He was a loyal agent, but his work was openly scorned by some. I can’t believe he would have sent everything without keeping a backup here somehow. There was talk about disposing of the records kept at headquarters, which he would have known about. I’m sure he’d have wanted to make sure his work wasn’t lost completely.”

Tooru looked around at the mess of paperwork everywhere, and then thought of all the other places which could potentially house secret compartments. The house was large. There were, as Akaashi had pointed out, the barns. Hell, there were probably hiding places in the _gardens_ , or in the neighbouring fields if they accepted that some of this had probably been hidden twenty years earlier. The scale of the task was staggering. He cleared his throat.

“So, how long was it that you have before someone misses you and this whole thing is game over?” he asked.

Akaashi sighed. “About a week and a half.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I mean, are you seriously telling me that if Akaashi had a list of Reasons To Commit Treason somewhere, "Bokuto is in trouble/probably dead" _wouldn't_ be on it? Because if so, I'm not buying it. This chapter also hopefully explains why Akaashi was quite _that_ wooden early on. Keeping up the act that he had Totally Legitimate reasons for everything he was doing was hard work, you know? 
> 
> There's one more update after this which forms part of the Brofest challenge, and then things will settle down to a more sensible update frequency. I haven't settled on how often that will be just yet, but, we'll see!


	4. GHLAB XVJOF CSHRS HLTAE IKIEE PXVIA WSMKS

In all honesty, Tooru was surprising himself. He’d never especially been confronted with someone who stood such a high and obvious chance of being killed. It was almost too shocking for words, in a way. Different to the loss of his parents. Different to the recent loss of his grandfather, or the all-but-death of his sister. He wasn’t a stranger to death, but having it sneak up and snatch someone was different to seeing the shadow it cast over someone. Different to _knowing_.  
  
He’d lost his future with the failure of his knee surgery, but that was nothing to what Akaashi was going through, and somehow the man managed to remain calm and focused. As they set back to work, Tooru found himself flicking through photographs and knick-knacks as quickly as he could, conscious of the countdown. But Akaashi continued as he ever had, careful and methodical.  
  
“I owe it to Bokuto-san to be thorough,” was all he said when Tooru questioned him about it. “If I rush and miss something important, that won’t help anyone.”  
  
He wasn’t _wrong_ , that was the thing. It was simply that, right or otherwise, there was something quietly unnerving about it all. About how someone could focus so completely on their task that they lost sight of the risks. He frowned. Was this how people had seen him, when he’d thrown himself into his endless serving practices?  
  
_That_ was a thought for another time. Preferably a non-existent one. Volleyball was over forever, and the less time he spent dwelling on it the better. Especially if he had a missing agent to help down, and lives—actual, _real_ lives—to save.  
  
Put that way, there really wasn’t any sense in worrying about the ache in his knee as he sat on the floor, pulling the next box of old photographs towards him. In less than two weeks it would all be over, one way or another, and he’d go back to being a crippled ex-athlete living alone in the middle of nowhere. Assuming the forced immersion into his childhood didn’t drive him away forever. There were only so many photographs of his father as a happy, smiling boy he could really stand. As an only child with _two_ parents who visibly doted on him, right up until he’d been a more sombre young man with just a father. The occasional asides for holiday photographs, with landscape shots of all the most touristy places. And then portraits of a soldier, smiling proudly in his uniform.  
  
The pictures changed. His mother appeared, another young and happy person with nothing but smiles for the camera. An aside of country walks, probably another holiday. His parents’ wedding—a large, dedicated folder which he skipped entirely. Pictures of their house in the city. Pictures of more countryside. Pictures of his older sister just as she was—wait. Countryside.  
  
He flicked back through the last batch of photographs and stopped at a snapshot of a mountain range. It was taken outside, clearly, and depicted a mountain view from a high hill, framed by what was probably a finger partially blocking the lens. An unfamiliar man in old-fashioned clothes looked back at the photographer, smiling, his hands on his hips. It could have been anyone. Anywhere. But what was it doing in the middle of a group of pictures of his parents?  
  
“Akaashi, take a look at this,” he said, holding the picture up. It was worth checking, at least. “Any use?” He tried to keep his voice calm and level—it really wasn’t much of a picture anyway.  
  
Akaashi scrambled over, dropping the pile of old letters he had been sorting through. He held the photograph by the corners, eyes widening.  
  
“This is…Oikawa-san, what would you say is at the edge of this photo?”  
  
Tooru looked at it more carefully than he had at first. “It’s a finger, isn’t it?” he asked “It’s not like he could edit it out or anything. Maybe that’s why he kept this one tucked away here, because it wasn’t quite as good?”  
  
Akaashi nodded. “It’s certainly a possibility. But you called me over for a reason, didn’t you? Where did you find this?” He looked at the pile of photographs, and turned over the one in his hand. “Aha!” he cried.  
  
Tooru leant over, and had to bite back a gasp. Written faintly in pencil in the top corner was the number eighteen.  
  
“I don’t think that’s a finger,” Akaashi said, speaking slowly. “I think, possibly, that it’s the edge of a portal which has been enclosed in a dark room. This man must be…a contact. A local, probably. And he seems very relaxed to be on the far side, which only supports the theory. He’s also remarkably calm about your grandfather taking the photograph.”  
  
“I’ll look for more,” Tooru said. “If he took a camera he won’t have just taken _one_ photo, surely? And the negatives are probably stored around here somewhere, too. Even if the rest are missing.”  
  
Akaashi nodded absently. He had flipped the photo over again and was staring at the unfamiliar landscape. “What date is this?” he asked. “If I change my search to the letters from this year…”  
  
Tooru nodded. “Well, it was…maybe the year my sister was born, or the one before it. There are pictures of my parents before their wedding here too. It was all around then.  
  
“I’ll try and source some details about the dates of your grandfather’s missions tonight,” Akaashi said. “Until then, we’ll limit our search to things from around this period.”  
  
Nodding again, Tooru picked up the stack of photographs and continued to flick through them. He hadn’t gone more than a few more when he let out a cry of delight. “Look! It’s the same man!”  
  
Akaashi practically vaulted over the boxes between them, and gaped at the photo. This one depicted the friendly-looking man from before, in a very similar looking mountainous landscape. The only difference was that he was sat on a bench outside a wooden building with a number of other people, all of whom smiled and waved for the photograph. Most of their hands were blurry with movement. There was no dark frame around the edge of the picture. It had been taken in full sunlight, and the top of the photo had whited out from the glare.  
  
“That’s a house,” Akaashi said flatly. “It’s…it’s _weathered_. And look at these people. They’re all remarkably tanned, considering the climate of that part of the Loelken Empire. Oikawa-san, this picture…I think that’s showing a settlement of some sort on the far side of a portal.”  
  
Tooru frowned. “But that…they’d have to have been there for _years_ to bother building houses. Or they’d have to be a long way in from the portal. Otherwise what’s the point? And how would they know it wasn’t just going to close again?” He shuddered. The thought of going so far into another world was enough to give him the crawls.  
  
“It’s a lot to take from one photograph, certainly,” Akaashi said. “But it’s evidence all the same. I’m sure of it.”  
  
“Have we done it then?” Tooru said, looking over at the other man. “You said you needed this sort of thing, and now we’ve found it.”  
  
He was startled when Akaashi dropped the photograph and slowly shook his head. “I wish that we _had_ , but I’m sure this won’t be enough. There’s already a photograph of what is presumably this other world at headquarters. They’ll have seen all of this at the time, and it wasn’t enough to convince them then. We need…something more concrete.”  
  
Tooru sighed. “I suppose it was a little much to expect we’d find everything in the first morning,” he said, looking over at the clock. “Oh, _shit_. Uh, you have a car, don’t you?”  
  
Akaashi nodded. “I was hardly likely to request a taxi drop me here.”  
  
“Did you park it in the yard? It was so early when you got here I wasn’t really paying attention.”  
  
“Well, yes—”  
  
“You should probably move it then. Sasaki…I mean, an old family friend of a sort is dropping some food off in a couple of hours. His wife is the biggest gossip around.”  
  
Akaashi nodded. “Very sensible. Where would be the best place to conceal a car in the countryside?”  
  
Tooru frowned. “Well, Sasaki will be coming up from the village, so if you put it…park it up on the hill. There’s a track for access to the top field, and he won’t see it because of the trees in the way. We’ll think of something better later on.”

 

* * *

 

It was slightly surreal when Sasaki dropped by with the groceries, and he had to pretend that everything continued as it always had. Akaashi had taken refuge in the study, promising to keep looking and make the most of every minute, but there was no hiding the wide spread of boxes all over the living room floor.  
  
“Oh, just thought I’d finally get round to clearing out some of the paperwork,” Tooru said airily, when the inevitable question was raised. “I’ve just left it there because I can only move a few boxes at a time. Still, not going to let this knee stop me from doing what needs to be done!”  
  
Sasaki raised an eyebrow. “Is that so,” he said. “Well, seems you’re getting over your doldrums, an’ that’s good to see. Folk worry about you, shut up here all alone, you know.”  
  
Tooru felt a muscle under his eye twitch. “Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “I think it’s done me good having space to think.”  
  
“Well, if you ever need anything, you know you can give us and the missus a call. Not just for lifts and the like, neither.”  
  
The smile he forced onto his face _had_ to look false, but at that point he was more concerned with getting rid of his well-meaning neighbour than anything else. “Thank you. I’ll definitely keep that in mind, but, well. I’m hopeful the doctors will clear me to drive in a few more weeks, and then I’ll be able to get out and about much more easily. A weight off of everyone’s minds, yes?”  
  
He was practically bustling the other man out of the door. No doubt this would come back to haunt him later, but all he could really think about was the possibility of something going wrong. Of Akaashi…dropping something, maybe, or sneezing, or any one of the many options which could lead to a noise loud enough for Sasaki to ask who else was in the building. Awkward questions he couldn’t answer. How the hell did Akaashi do it?  
  
“I thought he’d never leave,” he groaned some ten minutes later, as they both sat down in the living room. “This keeping everything secret business is hard work.”  
  
“There are many things about my job which are hard work, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi replied evenly. “It’s one of the reasons it is considered a rather specialist position, and requires considerable amounts of training.”  
  
“And I suppose you’re not going to talk about any of that side of things, are you.”  
  
Akaashi looked up from the latest box they were working through. “I’ve told you only what you need to know to help me. I might technically be committing treason, but I do have _some_ integrity, you know.”  
  
Tooru was about to make a snippy reply when the corner of Akaashi’s mouth twitched. Was that a _smile?_  
  
“Oh, you _do_ have a sense of humour?” he drawled instead. “And here I was thinking you were as bad-tempered as Iwa-chan.”  
  
Akaashi blinked owlishly. “That’s an…unusual nickname for a grown man.”  
  
Tooru shrugged. “Well, you said it yourself when you rattled off those background checks. We’ve known each other since we were children. I can’t be bothered calling him something else just because we both grew up.”  
  
He reached over to grab the next box, and sighed.  
  
“What is it?” Akaashi asked.  
  
“Oh, nothing really,” he said, lifting the lid and peering down at yet _more_ photographs. Would they ever end? At least this group seemed much to old to be of any use. “I was just thinking that Iwa-chan would find it hilarious to see me sat here like this, pouring over every last thing, when I told him just a few months ago that I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible. Except I can’t ever tell him. I have to keep secrets from him. And in all honesty it’s hard to really accept that my grandfather did the same thing my whole life and longer. It…feels a little like I don’t know who he really was any more.”  
  
He frowned, looking at a picture of a stern woman in black clothes. Probably his great-great-grandmother or something. There wasn’t a name on the back. She could be anyone.  
  
“He was still the same man,” Akaashi said, cutting off his train of thought. “It’s simply that in _addition_ to what you knew, he carried out important work. The fact that he kept his word about not sharing confidential information doesn’t alter who he was as a person. It was an admirable quality of his, which I’m sure carried across to the rest of his life.”  
  
Tooru nodded. “It’s just grief, really,” he said, his voice heavy. “I’ll get over it.”  
  


 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-TKINELSTEWHT/LOXRXKZYWAE_  
>    
>  _…VOCODER ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGED._  
>  _TRANSMISSION SECURE._
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ We found something. It’s not enough yet, but the answers are definitely here somewhere. I’m sure of it. He was right. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Fantastic news. You know, I never doubted you for a second. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ That’s a lie and you know it. We’re working harder though. I’m still not sure if it will be enough to convince anyone else. But they exist. Everything he went to confirm is real. It has to be. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Which means the warning was real too. Shit. How long do you think we have. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ I don’t know. In all honesty we may already be cutting it very fine. I don’t want to admit it, but there’s a chance we won’t be in time to make enough of a difference no matter what we do. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Well we’ve just gotta hope you find what you’re looking for fast then. No one here has questioned your absence for now, but that won’t last if you overrun. By the way. Have you planned how you’re actually going to tell everyone yet. You’re going to have a hard sell with this one. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ …Oh you are shitting me. Please tell me you’ve at least got the start of a plan. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Okay fine. I’ll add a plan for that to my endless list of shit I’m doing to help you. You’re going to owe me until the end of time. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this, really you don’t. I’m sure I’ll think of something. _::_
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Don’t sweat it. I don’t want to be an accessory to your death if I can help it, you know. So just leave it to me. Besides. I want to be remembered as the guy who backed you up and made this possible. It’ll make me a hero by association, you know. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ You’re an idiot. _::_
>
>> _SENT::_ …Thank you. _::_
> 
> _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED._  
> 

They’d carried on until late again that day, until finally, yawning, Akaashi announced that he should depart. Tooru had almost suggested they continue longer, even though his eyes ached fiercely. What they were doing was important, wasn’t it?

His misgivings about stopping lasted until, once again, there was a knock at the door in the morning before he’d even managed to get dressed.  
  
Akaashi looked as rumpled as if he hadn’t slept, his hair soaking once more. His face had the all-over pinkness of one which had very recently been scrubbed, but his jacket still carried dust from the day before. He masked a yawn as Tooru waved him inside.  
  
“So how far is this place where you’ve been sleeping,” Tooru asked, narrowing his eyes at the other man.  
  
“Uhhh…not far.”  
  
Tooru gaped at him. _Not far?_ he thought. _There’s nothing ‘not far’ from this house. We’re in the middle of nowhere._  
  
The answer struck him a half-second later: “Oh for—you’ve been sleeping in your _car_ , haven’t you. And, what…washing in the river in the valley? That water’s _freezing_.”  
  
“It was necessary,” Akaashi said, with obvious irritation. “Now, if I could get to work? There isn’t time for this.”  
  
“Fine, fine,” Tooru said, waving him in. “I’ll join you in a few minutes.”  
  
He shook his head as he headed up the stairs to get dressed. Catch _him_ sleeping in a car. Still, he supposed it had to be said that Akaashi was dedicated to his work. If he’d been prepared to drive a bit each day, there were plenty of places nearby where he could have stayed. Then again, if he was working directly against his orders, he probably didn’t want to leave too many traces of himself in the community.  
  
…He hoped Akaashi at least had a sleeping bag in there.  
  
They didn’t find anything more that day. After finishing with the contents of every box, drawer, and cupboard in the study, Oikawa gave permission for Akaashi to search the room for hidden compartments while he ventured into the master bedroom. Apparently it was a good location to check, because keeping documents in the same room you slept in offered a little more security.  
  
It didn’t feel right to rifle through his grandfather’s belongings, even though there was a document at solicitor’s in the nearest town proclaiming that it had all been handed down to him, Oikawa Tooru, seeing as his sister was not in a fit state of mind to take ownership. Tooru had put most of the money he’d inherited into a trust fund for his nephew instead.  
  
Putting the grief—still raw and recent, really, if he ever let it bubble to the surface—out of his mind was a lot harder while he was pulling boxes out from under the bed, and emptying the drawers and wardrobe. There were still things belonging to his _grandmother_ in places, and more than once he found himself taking breaks with thinly-veiled excuses such as making drinks, or needing to do the physio exercises he’d been set—outside, obviously, because of the dust. When Iwaizumi called, shortly after lunch, he was glad of a more legitimate excuse. Digging through it all would have been worth it if they’d actually _found_ something. As it was, it felt like it was all being dredged up for no reason at all. Akaashi was too focused on his search to notice.  
  
“Oi. What’s up,” Iwaizumi said, a few minutes into their conversation. “Did you even hear what I said?”  
  
Tooru blinked. Huh. He’d missed something?  
  
“Sorry, sorry Iwa-chan,” he said, trying to sound like his usual self. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Akaashi lift his head from pouring over the latest stack of paperwork, frozen with an expression of concern on his face.  
  
“I guess I’m just a little tired, that’s all,” he said.  
  
“What?” Iwaizumi replied. “Look, once we get through the next round I’ll have a few weeks without so much training. I can come up if you need me to—”  
  
“No, no, it’s fine!” Tooru said, wincing. Well, that definitely sounded suspicious then. Akaashi’s eyes seemed to bore holes in the side of his head, at the same time as Iwaizumi growled down the phone line at him. “I just started going through some of the old boxes here, that’s all. Got a bit distracted last night, you know?”  
  
“Wait, are you being serious right now?” Iwaizumi said. “You’ve been putting that one off for _months_.”  
  
“Yes, yes, well,” Tooru said, hoping the relief didn’t show in his voice. “I realised no one was going to do it for me, I guess.” He smiled crookedly. Lying to Iwaizumi wasn’t _new_ exactly. It was simply the first time he’d done it for any reason other than covering up what was, if he were brutally honest with himself, his own poor judgement.  
  
It was odd, too, that he felt _grateful_ when Iwaizumi cut the call short because he had an early practice the next morning. The sting was still there—and he could have _sworn_ his knee throbbed with pain the moment volleyball was mentioned, but he couldn’t deny that, for once, he actually had something to be getting on with himself. Was this what it felt like to move on? To feel the sting of his loss but be able to put it aside and think about something else?  
  
God, the therapist had been right. He was grieving for his athletic career. Well, time to cheerfully bury _that_ thought as deep as the rest of his insecurities and grievances. He was absolutely not going to let himself start falling apart while someone else was around to see it. At least it was a lot easier to keep going when he had something to actively work towards, and around someone who didn’t look at him with pity, either.  
  
“Listen,” he found himself saying, as the last of the daylight faded away. “This house isn’t short on bedrooms. You might as well sleep in one of _them_ , rather than a car seat. It can’t be doing you any good.”  
  
Akaashi stared at him, eyes wide. “I don’t want to impo—”  
  
“Oh are you for _real?_ ” Tooru cried. “You’re literally searching my entire house from top to bottom. As if it’s going to make any difference whether or not you sleep indoors at this point. Face it. This whole thing is an imposition on my time. You’ve turned my life upside down, in multiple ways. You might as well get a decent night’s rest while you’re at it, and make sure you’re not too tired to concentrate.”  
  
Nodding once, Akaashi turned back to the notebook he was looking through. “Very well. I’ll finish this box and bring a few things inside, if that’s okay?”

 

* * *

 

Tooru wasn’t sure why he was surprised to find Akaashi already at work when he emerged from his bedroom the next morning. Two boxes sat, neatly repacked, at the foot of the stairs, and he was poured over the contents of a third, rubbing at his temples.  
  
“Please, tell me you ate something before getting to work,” he drawled.  
  
Akaashi shook his head. “I just wanted to finish where we left off,” he said, sounding distracted. “This is the last of the boxes from the other bedrooms, yes?”  
  
“Let me guess,” Tooru said. “You want to get up in the attic next.”  
  
He wasn’t surprised by Akaashi’s reply. Nor by the fact that, less than two hours later, they were _both_ clambering around in the dust up there—although he stuck to the small, central area where boards had been laid down between the rafters, and let Akaashi search through the insulation for anything which might have been tucked there.  
  
“God, you could hide a _body_ up here,” Tooru remarked. “No one would ever know.”  
  
“Actually, the smell would most likely permeate through to the lower floors,” Akaashi replied, his attention elsewhere. “Or as it decomposed, fluids would—”  
  
“Oh my God, _no!_ ” Tooru cried, turning to shine the torch at the other man. “Don’t _say_ stuff like that! Maybe you deal with nasty things like bodies in your job, but I don’t.” He shuddered. “Besides, this place is creepy enough as it is.”  
  
Akaashi turned to face him, eyebrows raised, and the corner of his mouth turned up into the faintest hint of a smile. “Perhaps, then, you should remember who you are talking to.”  
  
Tooru shook his head and made his way over to the rectangle of daylight which marked the location of the hatch. “Well, feel free to go on hunting in the dark,” he said. “I’ll get a couple of these boxes downstairs. We’ll never sort through it all up here.”  
  
In the end, it took two days to search through the contents of the attics. By the second day, Tooru didn’t have the energy to care about the mess any more. His knee ached, and his eyes prickled from long hours and the dust, and he felt more than useless because there was just…nothing. Hours and hours of searching and all they had to show for it was a painting, and two photographs which seemed less and less like evidence the more he looked at them. Really. They could have been taken anywhere.  
  
“It’s here somewhere, it has to be,” is all that Akaashi said when he suggested that the search might be hopeless. “We just have to find it. He forwarded messages just six months ago. Where’s all the evidence of that? Where was he working?”  
  
“Well it wasn’t in the attic, that’s for sure,” Tooru said. “But, I don’t know. He used to sit in his study all the time. I suppose I assumed whatever he was doing was in there.”  
  
Akaashi sighed. “We need to rethink this, then. I’ve been over that room with a fine-tooth comb, and there’s nothing more to find.”  
  
“Oh for—I can’t believe it took me this long,” Tooru said, after several minutes of silently staring at the gathering of dusty boxes in the middle of the living room. “They’re _photographs_. He had to have developed them somehow. He wouldn’t have the copies here if he’d done that wherever you people are based.”  
  
“But there’s no dark room,” Akaashi pointed out. “He could have been granted copies at the time. It’s—”  
  
“The cupboard under the stairs,” Tooru said. “It’s plenty dark in there. I used to play hide and seek with Iwa-chan, and when the door’s closed you can’t see your hand in front of your face. There’s a seal around the door. He always said it was to keep out a draught…”  
  
Akaashi was already on his feet, bolting across the hallway. By the time Tooru made it to his feet the door was open and the other man was hastily pulling cleaning equipment out. Tooru went to fetch the torch rather than interrupt, returning in time to see Akaashi feeling around the inner side of the doorway.  
  
“There has to be a panel somewhere,” he said, accepting the torch with a quick nod of thanks. “Your guess was correct. This liner would have been put in place to allow the cupboard to be used as a darkroom. It’s heavily perished, which means it likely hasn’t been used in…well, a long time. But his field activities were a long time ago too, so that doesn’t mean—aha!”  
  
Tooru couldn’t hold back a small gasp of surprise as Akaashi pressed something on the wall opposite which opened the wooden panel there with a soft _click_.  
  
The torch dropped to the floor as he fumbled to pull out the metal tin which had been hidden behind it. Tooru backed up to give him space. They didn’t even bother going for the living room: Akaashi set it down on the floor between them, and gingerly lifted the lid. He let out an odd, choked sound when they saw the contents.  
  
“That’s—”  
  
“It’s written in cipher,” Akaashi said. “We won’t be able to decode it here unless we know the keyword. K-my contact should be able to get us access to the codebreaking machines though.”  
  
He lifted the sheets of paper, flicking through them. Tooru reached down for the bundle beneath them. More photographs, featuring the same would-be innocent countryside, and the unknown, ever-smiling man. He flicked through two which featured other buildings in the same style before he found one which made him freeze.  
  
“Akaashi…” he mumbled, holding it out. “Is…is this the proof you need?”  
  
The photograph was faded, as though it had often been left out in the sun. It showed a small wooden cabin with a mountainous backdrop, and a path trodden in front of it, which led directly towards a stone archway. On the far side was the interior of a large building. He could just about make out the clothes the people in that other building were wearing—Loelken army uniforms.  
  


 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-TKINELSTEWHT/LOXRXKZYWAE_  
>    
>  _…VOCODER ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGED._  
>  _TRANSMISSION SECURE._
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ It’s here. We found it. I can’t quite believe it, but it’s here. _::_
> 
>  
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Oh thank fuck you’re tuned in tonight. We’re in deep shit. You’ve got to get out of there now and head back. I can’t explain more on this channel. Leave. _::_
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ What the hell. Did you not hear me. I found proof. It’s here—not all of it, perhaps some was destroyed. But there’s enough to prove the warning was real. _::_
> 
>  
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Shit. Shit. You told him, didn’t you. Fuck, of course you did. How much does he know. No. Don’t tell me like this. They might…okay listen, we have to get him out of there. _::_
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ What the hell are you talking about. And what do you mean not to tell you. This is a secure channel. _::_
> 
>  
>
>> _RECEIVED::_ Yeah, no. Possibly not. We couldn’t have known, but—Listen. If you don’t want to be responsible for this guy dying, bring him to…head to the drop off location we arranged before. Tell no one why. We’re gonna have to scrub him clean. Scrub the house before you go as well. They can’t know how much we know. _::_
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ What do you mean th—oh fuck. Fuck Fu—okay. On it.
> 
> _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED._  
> 

  
Tooru woke sharply from a dream about a volleyball match which involved dodging portals that sucked players into a measureless void. Someone’s hands were shaking him roughly. He flailed, hitting flesh, and rolled away with a gasp as a familiar voice cried out in pain.

“Shit, _shit!_ It’s me, Oikawa-san. Akaashi. Wake up!”

Tooru scrambled for the far side of his bed, and fumbled for the light switch there. “What the _fuck_ are you doing in my bedroom!” he screeched. “Get the hell out of here!”

He blinked away spots, and realised Akaashi was standing there in his overcoat, eyes wide with what looked a lot like _fear_ —

“We have to leave,” Akaashi said, knotting his fingers together. “I…I made contact with my friend at headquarters. Something’s gone badly wrong. I have a very real reason to believe that your life may be in danger if you stay here much longer. I’m going to gather together all the confidential material we found, and pack my belongings. I need you to get dressed and take anything you wouldn’t want government agents rifling through.”

“They found you out?” Tooru said, sitting up. “But…wait, why do _I_ need to go? That form was meant to cover me, right?”

Akaashi shook his head. “I don’t know what’s going on, exactly,” he said. “My friend thought it too dangerous to tell me over the radio. The channel we use to communicate is securely encoded. For it not to be safe, I can only assume that there’s a mole at headquarters somewhere—and they’ve worked out what I’m doing.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this marks the end of the chapters specifically written for the HQ Brofest (pssst, go check out some of the other fics written for this event, because there are some absolute _gems_ ). From here on out, there will not be daily updates. Being realistic, I'm going to aim for once a fortnight for now, and if I manage more frequently than that, hey, it's a bonus, right? 
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading so far, and especially to those who have left kudos or comments. It always makes my day. If you want to ask questions about this fic (or pester me for clues about the ciphertext), I am always available over on my [tumblr](http://tottwritesfanfic.tumblr.com)!


	5. GHLAB XVJIG PBAMW CLCKA EWEHL AGSXS FAXHW IDEZP TTTEY

Tooru was pretty sure he’d never dressed so fast in his life. He still wasn’t _entirely_ sure of what Akaashi had been saying—it was the middle of the night, and if he were honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to curl back up in bed—but there had been nothing at all ambiguous about Akaashi’s insistence that they leave before sunrise.  
  
_What do I need to take?_ he thought, stuffing clothes into a bag. _Stuff I don’t want them looking at? But I don’t want people looking at_ any _of my things._  
  
Akaashi had firmly instructed him to pack for an extended trip, saying he wasn’t sure how long it would take to get everything sorted out. Tooru had no idea how long counted as an extended stay, but found himself gathering most of the clothes he had hauled up from the city onto his bed. Would two suitcases be too much? Or would it be _enough?_  
  
He stopped, rubbing at his eyes. This was stupid. The deadline Akaashi had said they needed to leave by was in a few _hours_. That meant…surely that meant he had time to sit and think for a few minutes? Maybe even to get a hot drink and wake himself up?  
  
Perhaps if he went downstairs he’d find that this had all been a nightmare brought on by stress, anyway. The longer he stood there in the bedroom the more surreal the whole situation felt. It _couldn’t_ be—  
  
His hands shook, knuckles pale as he gripped the handles of his bag. No, it was real. There was nothing dreamlike about the hammering in his chest, or the way his breath caught now and then as he limped from one side of the room to the other, grabbing anything which he thought he might need. Clothes, coats, shoes. A pair of gloves. A hat he hadn’t worn since—when _had_ he last worn that thing? No, nevermind that. He shoved it in the bag anyway.  
  
Akaashi waited in the hallway, a dark shadow which made Tooru flinch and swear when he opened the door.  
  
“Don’t you have better things to do than stand there in the dark!” he snapped, reaching for the switch.  
  
Akaashi’s hand stopped him halfway. “No. They might already be watching the house. No more lights than _absolutely_ necessary.”  
  
“Okay, right,” Tooru said, fighting to keep his face as level as Akaashi’s voice. How the hell did he do it? “Now what? If they’re watching, how do we get out of here?”  
  
“Carefully,” came the patient reply. “We’ve got a few hours yet. I’ll help you gather anything else you might need. I’ve got a torch with me for light.”  
  
If there was one thing creepier than ferreting around in a loft full of cobwebs and shadows, it was making his way around the house solely by the light of a torch which had to be angled away from windows. It shouldn’t have been—he’d certainly had his fair share of power cuts, this far out—but the knowledge that there could be Loelken sympathisers watching his every move made his skin crawl. He found himself wincing at every sound, even though it was surely impossible for anyone to hear them.  
  
“Is there anything important in your grandfather’s room?” Akaashi asked softly as they reached the door. “I’m…I don’t know when you’ll be able to return, so, if there’s a memento…or an heirloom?”  
  
Tooru swallowed, feeling a prickle of guilt that the first thing he thought of was the assortment of volleyball memorabilia still lined up on the shelves in his room.  
  
“You said we’ve got time, right?” he muttered. “Just give me a few minutes.”  
  
Akaashi nodded, handing him the torch. “Keep it angled at the door, and turn it off if you need to go near a window.”  
  
The only other time Tooru had walked into his grandfather’s room in the dark, he’d been eight years old; woken by a nightmare. His sister had gone off to university already, and he’d made the journey along the hall and into the large room on tiptoe, shaking with remembered fear.  
  
He hadn’t often thought of that night since. After all, he’d been old enough to feel slightly ashamed of it all, and it had been a _long_ time ago. Still, as he opened the door and walked in, he found it impossible to think of anything else. Impossible not to remember the way the bed had loomed, with the lumpish, foreign shape of his grandfather beneath the covers. He’d never seen the man asleep before. Never dared enter his room. He’d always sought comfort from his sister when their father had died, and now…  
  
The bed was neatly made. The desk and bookcases had been dusted. The room was empty; no sleeping figure would ever rest in that bed again. Tooru ground his teeth and tried to ignore the hot prickling in his eyes. No. Grief had to wait.  
  
What could he take, though? The way Akaashi was talking, he’d never get to come back at all.  
  
_Something practical_ , he told himself. There was no good in hauling trinkets around. _Something which will be useful, wherever we end up. Something—yes. That._  
  
He darted over to the bedside cabinet, and grabbed the watch which he’d placed back in the top drawer just a few days earlier. Then, on a whim, he grabbed the wooden cigar box next to it. His grandfather had preferred a pipe, and it was full of the exact sort of knick-knacks which he’d just dismissed as usless, but the thought of someone else rifling through it… _no_ , damn it.  
  
He slipped the watch inside and made his way back to the hall. Akaashi had gone, but a dark shape moved on the ground floor.  
  
_That had better be him,_ Tooru thought grimly. He limped down the stairs, clutching the box against his chest. If it came to it, he could probably attempt to lay out an intruder with his walking stick, but if things had gone that badly in the five minutes he’d been in another room, most likely it wouldn’t make much difference either way.  
  
“Akaashi?” he hissed. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Food, Oikawa-san,” came the placid reply. “I thought it best to travel prepared. I’ve arranged a meeting place with my contact, but there is a chance we won’t be able to go there directly. Given who’s going to be chasing us, we won’t be able to just stop somewhere along the way.” He sighed, hanging his head. “I’m sorry. I really, _honestly_ didn’t intend to drag you into this.”  
  
“Well it’s too late for that now,” Tooru said, shrugging. “Besides, I said I’d help you. Maybe I still can, somehow. If there’s some sort of traitor where you work and they want to stop you, you _must_ be onto something good.”  
  
Akaashi sighed. “It’s not quite that simple, but…perhaps.”  
  
They gathered several days worth of dried food just in case, and filled all the bottles they could find at the tap. Akaashi assembled the bags by the kitchen door.  
  
“Now we need a distraction,” he said. “While I carry these out to the car, I want you to go up to your bedroom and turn the lights on. Wait half a minute and then turn them off again before turning on the hall lights, and then do the same with the bathroom—as though you’d woken up in the night. Once you’ve done that, make your way back downstairs. We want their attention on the upper floors. I’ll get everything in the car and warm the engine, understood?”  
  
Tooru nodded, ignoring the creeping voice which pointed out that it would be far from impossible for Akaashi to flee while he was upstairs too. He’d already trusted the man enough to let him into his home. They’d searched through all his belongings together. _He could have just left without waking me at all._  
  
Nonetheless, it was agonising to walk upstairs, and work his way slowly through the planned distraction. He couldn’t go too fast. If they knew anything about him, they’d have to know about his knee, too. And if he really _had_ woken in the night ordinarily, he wouldn’t be rushing. He’d be slower than usual, in fact, because his knee always seized up while he lay in bed. Just getting his things together had set it throbbing painfully. He hoped Akaashi wouldn’t pack the bag with all his painkillers in too far down, and that they’d be able to stop and retrieve them before much longer.  
  
By the time he reached the kitchen it was hurting enough that he allowed himself a few seconds to rummage in his medicines drawer and grab a few boxes in the dark. One of them had to be painkillers. He wedged the packets into his jacket pockets and hobbled to the door as fast as he could, snatching his keys as he went. Perhaps it was stupid, but the thought of leaving without locking the door struck him as _wrong_.  
  
The engine of Akaashi’s car was running by the time he reached the yard; the door open and waiting for him to get inside even though none of the vehicle’s lights were on. Akaashi pulled away while he was still fumbling with his safety belt, not bothering to light their way.  
  
“So where are we going?” he asked, wincing as the car scraped against the hedges which lined the driveway.  
  
“For now, I’m not sure,” Akaashi said softly, peering over the dashboard to see where they were going in the gloom. “I want to be sure we’re not being followed before heading to our rendezvous. Besides, the longer we give him, the better chance he has of making some sort of plan.”  
  
Oikawa gaped. “You don’t _have_ a plan?”  
  
Akaashi sighed. “I made contact all of three hours ago to relay the fact that I had found what I was searching for. My _plan_ was to leave later today. I was focused on working out a way of convincing my superiors that I am in fact loyal to the republic, and that I acted out of patriotism rather than due to having a Loelken agenda. Neither of us expected there to _actually_ be a double agent involved in any of this. We’ll sort something out, but it won’t happen immediately. I’m still trying to work out who this means I can trust.”  
  
“Wait…you don’t think it could be your contact, do you?”  
  
“Oikawa-san, it was my contact who _warned_ me. Why would he do that if he were the traitor? I have no reason to doubt him, especially considering the risks he’s taken in helping me already.” He sighed. “Of course, I couldn't place endless blind faith in him, but…there are others I trust far less, and I’m not going to fall into a panic over this.”  
  
Tooru said nothing as they pulled out onto the road. Akaashi sounded rather like he was trying to convince _himself_ as much as anyone else, but it wasn’t as though pointing that out would change anything. Tooru fumbled in his pocket, trying to work out by more or less touch alone which box had the painkillers in. How much further would they go with all the lights turned off? It was a relatively clear night, but the visibility was still awful. It was hardly going to help if they wound up driving into a hedge.  
  
After a few minutes of crawling along at barely more than walking speed, Akaashi sighed and flicked the parking lights on. The glow was barely enough to illuminate the road a few feet in front of them, but Akaashi accelerated all the same.  
  
“We’ll have to hope we put enough distance between us,” he muttered. “It’s unlikely that they missed the sound of the engine, though.”  
  
Tooru frowned. “But why do it this way? Surely it would have been better to just drive off faster and have a head start?”  
  
Akaashi shook his head. “Your house sits on one side of a valley,” he said. “In order to get clear of the area, we have to drive down to the river and cross to the other side. There are too few potential routes we could take, and all of them put us in a position where we would be highly visible to anyone already watching your house. I don’t know how many watchers there would be, or if they have backup stationed nearby. The best hope we had was to leave under cover of darkness and at least hope to mislead them as to the direction in which we are headed. I will admit, I’m rather banking on your local knowledge here. If we have to take any unexpected turns I won’t know where we’re actually going.”  
  
He bit down the sarcastic response which immediately sprang to mind. There was absolutely no point in antagonising the person who was supposedly saving his life, particularly when that person was behind the wheel.  
  
There was something decidedly unnerving about the speed at which the trees and hedges whipped past them. Tooru couldn’t help but keep glancing over to the speedometer, watching it slowly but steadily creep up.  
  
“How long until you think we’re in the clear?” he asked after a minute or so. As they climbed the hill on the far side of the small river, the solitary light of his bathroom window came into view. It looked very small and alone. “We don’t actually _know_ that anyone was at the house, am I right?”  
  
“He wouldn’t have told me to leave immediately unless it was likely,” Akaashi replied. “I hadn’t made contact in a few days. I hate to admit it, but it’s entirely possible that someone has been watching for quite a while. It’s not a matter of _if_ someone might be following us. It’s whether or not we have enough of a headstart to shake them. As soon as we lose sight of your house I plan on putting some distance between us and anyone else.”  
  
Tooru turned to watch the road behind them. Was…was that an extra light, moving down in the valley? Trees and hedgerow blocked his view before he could be sure, and then the valley was gone.  
  
“Uhh, I think I saw—”  
  
“ _Shit,_ ” Akaashi snapped, as a pair of headlights crested the hill behind them. He accelerated rapidly, throwing Tooru back into his seat. “Oikawa-san, grab my satchel from the footwell. I need you to get the gun out of—”  
  
“What the fu—you have a _gun?_ ”  
  
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” Akaashi drawled, his eyes narrowing as he glanced briefly at the rear view mirror. "Apparently you missed the part where I informed you that I’m a government agent who is technically committing treason?” He gritted his teeth as they approached a sharp turn, wrenching the wheel around at the last moment and throwing Tooru against the passenger door. “This was always a likely eventuality for me. The gun was the first thing I packed. Now _hand it over_ , or we are probably both going to die.”  
  
“And how the hell do you expect to shoot _and_ drive?” Tooru said, grabbing the bag and rifling through the contents. He very deliberately was not going to think about that last sentence. “Did they teach that in spy school as well?”  
  
Akaashi was silent for all of two seconds. “Pass me your walking cane,” he said, taking the gun from Tooru’s shaking hand and placing it on his lap.  
  
Tooru handed it over without a word, eyes widening as Akaashi slid it down beside his leg.  
  
“Now, when I give the word, I want you to take the wheel,” Akaashi said. “The car won’t stop or slow down, so I’m going to try and wait until we have a relatively straight section, understood?”  
  
He wound the window down as he spoke. Tooru stared at him in horror. “You…you’re not going to—”  
  
“The main road is straighter, right?” Akaashi said, gripping the walking stick. He didn’t wait for Tooru to reply before turning onto a wider street.  
  
“Take the next left,” Tooru snapped. “It’ll kink for a bit but after that it evens out.” _What am I doing, what am I doing…I’m actually_ encouraging _this?_  
  
Akaashi barely even nodded in response, and Tooru gripped the sides of the seat tightly ahead of their sharp swerve a few seconds later. It was just as well it was the middle of the night, really. If he’d eaten at all recently, no doubt he have been sick.  
  
“Ready?” Akaashi asked as they left the last of the corners behind. “Take over.”  
  
Tooru unclipped his seat belt and clambered awkwardly across to take hold of the wheel. He risked a look down and saw Akaashi jam the walking stick onto the accelerator before moving in his seat.  
  
Their sudden burst of speed gave them a little edge over the lights tailing them, but not for long. Tooru’s knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, struggling to focus past searing knee pain to keep them driving straight. Another glance, this time to the side, revealed that Akaashi had leant halfway out of the window, arm reaching back along the side of the car…  
  
He looked straight ahead again just seconds before a gunshot cracked out, loud as a thunderclap and even more painful to his ears. Akaashi’s curse was mostly swept away by the wind. The headlights behind them lurched briefly before returning; high beams illuminating the hedges to either side of the car.  
  
At the second shot the swerve was longer. One side of the hedges went dark; the bullet must have found the headlight. Akaashi swore again, and Tooru hoped he could hear the desperate warning he called out as he turned a corner without any deceleration at all. The back of the car swerved out across the road and he winced at the loud thump of Akaashi colliding with the side of the car.  
  
“Fuck fuck _fuck!_ ” he cried, wrestling with the heavy steering to keep them on the asphalt. So much for a gentle reintroduction to driving.  
  
Akaashi’s third shot apparently hit nothing at all, but seconds later the rear screen of their car shattered with a deafening crack, as did the rear passenger side window. Tooru flinched—as much from the shock as from being peppered with glass fragments. The car lurched across the road, almost ending up in a hedge. His throat locked up and his heart hammered in his ears as he struggled to straighten it up again, wincing as they careened around another turn at full speed. Akaashi thumped against the side of the car once more, but he must have been okay because just seconds later he fired again.  
  
This time the car behind them swerved violently, clearly out of control. The sole remaining headlight swept across the road and vanished with a splintering crash. Tooru could only just hear it over the wind and a high, keening noise he couldn’t place until Akaashi sat back in the chair and pushed him away from the wheel. Oh. It was him. He’d been whining; whimpering from somewhere in the back of his throat.  
  
“Take deep breaths,” Akaashi said, his voice tense. “Cup your hands over your mouth if it helps… _shit_. We’re going to need a different car.”  
  
Tooru forced himself to inhale, and held the breath until his lungs were bursting before exhaling and starting again. That hadn’t happened. He hadn’t just been in…in a _car chase_ along the same lanes he’d cycled along every day to get to school. Akaashi hadn’t just caused the car behind them to plough into a hedge at full speed. They hadn’t left people—real, _actual_ people back there.  
  
They drove in silence, the lights still on their lowest setting. No one else appeared behind them, and after a while Akaashi pulled over by a gate, tucking the car against the hedge which lined the lane.  
  
“Wait here,” he said. “I’m going to check the damage.”  
  
Tooru took the opportunity to lean forward and try to get his breathing under control. The whole situation was ridiculous. Impossible. But then, what else was new? Ever since Akaashi had shown up on his doorstep things had taken a turn for the preposterous.  
  
Full dawn was still a couple of hours away, but the faintest hint of light was creeping into the sky; washing away the dimmer stars. None of the farmhouses Tooru knew to be nearby had their lights on. No one was watching. There weren’t any sounds save the faint bleating of sheep somewhere in the distance, and the rustling of leaves overhead. Somewhere outside, Akaashi walked around the car, muttering something.  
  
The certainty that he was going to be sick hit him all at once, and he threw open the door, ignoring the scrape of branches from the hedge. There wasn’t much room to move in the gap between the car and the branches, but he forced his way through, bracing his weight on the side of the vehicle as he bent over almost double and felt his stomach heave.  
  
Akaashi said nothing. Not as he stood there at the roadside. Not as made his way back to the front seat on legs which were barely strong enough to keep him upright. He got into the driver’s seat a minute or so after Tooru had pulled the passenger door closed and sat there staring at the wheel for a long moment, before wordlessly handing over one of the bottles of water.  
  
Tooru accepted it with shaking hands. He opened the door again, and leant out so that he could rinse the bile from his mouth.  
  
“Does that…happen often?” he managed at last, hoping the words didn’t sound as shaky as he felt.  
  
No,” Akaashi said flatly. “Not—not to me, at least.” He let his head fall slowly forward so that he rested it on the top of the wheel. “Just…just give me a moment.”  
  
Tooru stared numbly at the bottle in his hands until Akaashi spoke again, his voice as calm as it had ever been:  
  
“We need to keep moving. And we need to be less conspicuous. Where’s the nearest town?”

 

* * *

 

Tooru could never afterward remember the drive into town. His memory skipped more or less straight from where they had pulled up in the middle of nowhere to driving down a side street as the sun rose, with the orange glow of the street lights soon to give way to a more natural warmth. They pulled up on a quiet street, and Akaashi slipped out of the car, grabbing something from the back seat before walking over to the passenger side of another vehicle parked in the shadow of a tree.  
  
Moments later, the door was open. He stared open-mouthed as Akaashi walked stiffly back to the car, passing the front seats and opening the rear doors.  
  
“We need to move quickly,” he said. “Take the essentials. Leave everything else.”  
  
Tooru snatched up his cane and scrambled out of the car. “Did you just…you’re not _seriously_ suggesting that we steal—”  
  
“We don’t have a choice, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said, sighing. “Listen. By the time the car is reported stolen we’ll have abandoned it for another. The owners will get it back, if that’s what’s bothering you. With any luck, the only damage will be the lock I just broke. However, if you don’t cooperate, we’ll be seen and the alarm will be raised too soon. Please. _Help_ me.”  
  
Akaashi helped Tooru carry the bags of his clothes and most of the food across into the stolen vehicle, but left all but a small bag of his own belongings and something which looked like a typewriter case behind.  
  
“Too heavy,” was all he said as he reached down under the steering column, pulling a group of wires free. “Everything I left can be replaced later. If we get a chance, you might want to think about lightening your load as well. We’ve got a start for now, but we can’t always rely on having time to lug these bags around.”  
  
“You were the one who said to take everything!” Tooru hissed, wincing as the car started. The engine was far too loud in the quiet, pre-dawn air.  
  
Akaashi glanced at him before slamming the car into reverse. “That was then. This is now.”  
  
_I was wrong before_ , Tooru thought as they pulled away. _Nothing back at the house was fucked up at_ all _compared to this._  
  
They made two stops in remote locations before exchanging the stolen car for another one. At the first, Akaashi took the typewriter case out and opened it to reveal that it was, in fact, a compact radio transmitter. He handed the contraption to Tooru along with a pair of headphones, and told him to wind down the window and extend the telescopic aerial.  
  
“I need you to monitor the channel I’ve preset the radio to as we drive,” he said. “If you hear anything other than static—anything at all—I want you to hit the record button _here_ , and tell me when it stops. And whatever you do, don’t alter the frequency. Understood?”  
  
Tooru nodded. The static was oddly reassuring in a way. All the while he was listening out for a potential change, he was too focused to worry about what was going on. Part of him idly wondered if Akaashi had planned it that way; wondered if, perhaps, there was nothing to listen for after all, and this was just to help him cope with a stressful situation.  
  
…That thought lasted up until the bleeping started.  
  
Tooru had been listening long enough that the change didn’t register at first. Certainly it was only on the third or fourth bleep that he managed to rouse himself and hit the button. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Akaashi turn to look at him briefly, but he didn’t look back. The strange, garbled sound coming through the headphones had captured his full attention.  
  
It was static too, really. Static but _louder_ , and mixed with what almost sounded like a voice. Almost, but impossible to understand, as though he were trying to pick out one person’s words amid a crowd of people all shouting different things, on a frequency he hadn’t fully tuned into. Every instinct cried out at him to try and tune it better, but Akaashi had to have a reason for asking him _not_ to, right?  
  
The sound lasted all of about ten or twelve seconds before it changed back to bleeping. Six bleeps, and then nothing more than static. He gave it another five eternal seconds before pressing the ‘stop’ button.  
  
“It’s over…I think,” he said.  
  
Akaashi nodded, and pulled over by the gate into a field.  
  
“It’ll take me a few minutes to decrypt the transmission and reply,” he said. “You might as well try and rest.”  
  
Rest? After everything that had happened Tooru wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to relax enough to sleep again in his _life_. He nodded anyway though, and said nothing as Akaashi went outside and set the transmitter on the ground, kneeling beside it with the headphones half on.  
  
Tooru watched in the side mirror as Akaashi pressed a few buttons here and there, frowning down at the machine, before reaching down to pull out a microphone and speaking into it. He said a few words then stopped, pressed more buttons, and waited a full minute before speaking again.  
  
The process repeated four times before Akaashi hung his head, suddenly looking defeated. He said something twice more, waited a full five minutes, then straightened up and—presumably—broadcast one more message before removing the headset, standing up with the transmitter and throwing it into the hedge. Tooru gaped at him as he stalked back to the car and got in, frowning.  
  
“We need to change cars again as quickly as possible,” he said, his voice as calm as though nothing had happened. “Where’s the nearest small town? Or…or a farm, or a factory; somewhere a car would be left unattended.”  
  
Tooru frowned. “If we left it a couple of hours there’s a hiking route not far from here,” he said doubtfully. “The walkers park up and head out almost all day.”  
  
“Perfect,” Akaashi said grimly. “We’re going to need as much of a start as we can get, and this car will be no good once the owners wake up. They’ve probably already reported it.”  
  
“How far off is this place we’re headed to?” Tooru asked.  
  
Akaashi shook his head. “We’re taking a detour. I don’t want to have to wait any longer at our rendezvous than is absolutely necessary. There’s too much risk if we stay in one place for any length of time.”  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Tooru could contain the burning curiosity no longer.  
  
“So…why did you throw the radio away?” he asked, noting the way the other man immediately angled his head to look at the driver’s side mirror.  
  
“I didn’t need it any more,” Akaashi said flatly. “And the longer it takes someone to find it, the better.”  
  
_Oh wonderful,_ more _lies,_ Tooru thought.  
  
“Go straight at the crossroads and then take the second right,” was all he said aloud.   

  


>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-TKINELSTEWHT/LOXRXKZYWAE_  
>    
>  _…VOCODER ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGING…_  
>  _…ENGAGED._  
>  _TRANSMISSION SECURE._
>
>> _SENT::_ They were at the house. I left a wreck somewhere out in the lanes as we were getting away. I don’t know who they set on us, but…they might not be coming back. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ We’ll be delayed getting to you. I need to lose any other tails first. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ I think I might actually have killed someone. I— _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ This is the part where you’re meant to tell me the ends justify the means. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ Right…Right. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ Well, to whoever it is they set to monitoring this channel then…I didn’t want it to be like this. But now that it is, I won’t stop. And I’m not afraid. _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ … _::_
>
>>  _SENT::_ This will be the last broadcast I make. _::_
> 
>  _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED._  
>    
> 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huzzah, an update! Two days later than I had hoped thanks to health issues, but I made it in the end.
> 
> The plan from here was to aim for weekly updates, but given my recent health woes, I might be more likely to manage fortnightly. Either way, I shamelessly borrowed the planned plot (with a few alterations) for one of my original novels for this, so I am using it as an opportunity to fix the holes and I definitely want to finish it before tooo much longer!
> 
> Also, it occurs to me that I never actually mentioned what type of cipher I used for the chapter titles/inset sections. It's actually the Vigenère Square, which means I have now technically— _technically_ —given everyone everything they need to know to decode the ciphertext, assuming you spotted the 'beginner's mistake' I made when encoding everything. I'm not a _complete_ sadist. Be warned, though. There are slight spoilers to be found, both in terms of the ciphertext and sorta in the form of the keyword? If you do work it out, please be mindful of that before leaving block caps comments? You can always come yell at me on Tumblr if you want!


	6. GHLAB XVWII LSTXL IDQQV MWNZH IGIMG SEQXW ECETW GJMLX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a heads up, I'm warning for some description of treatment for an injury in this chapter. It's nothing toooo bad to my mind, but there are definitely details you might not wish to read if you have difficulty with medical things.
> 
> The section in question includes the paragraph starting: _'Before he got there, Akaashi managed to sit up...'_ and a section after that from: _'Tooru sighed. "Just get it over with,"'_ to: _'Akaashi frowned at him, eyes narrowed.'_
> 
> Now that that's all mentioned, I hope you enjoy reading! It's taken me entirely too long to finish up this chapter, given how much of it I've had sat on my PC since the last update.

 

 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-BRXEWWQZIRCPSY/TPPARPVMW_  
>    
>  _TRANSMISSION RECEIVED_  
>  _BROADCAST CHANNEL::#1_AUNTIE_  
>  _DISPLAYING CIPHERTEXT:_
> 
> _> >YRRPV MFVOL OKTWX CWPIK ERCPW MOIPF TGMTR HAMZD XWXOA LOXRX AVLIL LMCZO MGEQE SLZKM IRNWM TVENN PZXZS KPOWG KVOFY LLSJH TRPMV IADZV LXSPM PTBIZ EOEWU IGACC GBRKC CFKBE PDZNC FIRTD LVWXV AGPTE MRGHT BAWYS APKMI HLZPT DIRSW PMIIV ARPVM SMKLH IMSSR FDBHT EPACM AIRDL EIEPG ODEAL XSPCP XXEXA AAZXL INOLO XRXAV LILLM AYOIV GSMAW QVISI VLETX SOCFI MEPLN ZAMWQ EDDIZ IINOD_
> 
> _DECRYPT:Y/N_  
>  _ >>Y  
>    
>  _

 

The site was empty when they arrived, but the clear skies suggested that hikers wouldn’t be far off. Akaashi parked up in a field adjacent to the car park, so that it was hidden out of sight behind the hedge, where only the livestock could see them.

“Do you think you can drive?”

Tooru stared at Akaashi. “What are you—”

“We need to leave a false trail,” Akaashi said, drumming the steering wheel with his fingers. “If we abandon this car at the hiking site then it will be too easy to track. We should leave it a few miles from here at least.”

Tooru frowned, looking down at his leg. It ached deep within the joint, and the crook of his knee pricked with a sharp, uncomfortable heat.

“If I have to,” he said doubtfully. “But I don’t know how far I’d last before it got too much. A few miles, perhaps? If you want me to be able to walk at the end of it, at least, and I don’t particularly fancy making my leg worse if we’re on the run.”

Akaashi nodded. “Even a few miles is a better trail than none,” he said. “Could you make it to the nearest town from here? One with a train station would be preferable, or a large bus depot.”

 

* * *

 

It was somehow _worse_ seeing Akaashi break into the car in full daylight. Earlier that morning there had been the haze of his residual shock, and the darkness to cover his actions. But it was another matter entirely watching him stride up to a car in broad daylight and do… _something_ to the lock which allowed him to open the door. At any second he expected the owners to come back, or for someone else to pull into the car park, or for…for sirens to start blaring.

How was it possible to be so calm about it all? A car _did_ pull in, while Akaashi sat in the front seat, presumably fiddling with the wiring to get the car to start. Tooru saw him straighten, and lean back in the seat with his hands resting on the side of the car door. As he watched, Akaashi wound the window down and first yawned, then actually _waved_ at the strangers as they disembarked from their car and headed off down the path.

He wanted the earth to swallow him up. It was some sick kind of joke, surely. But no one else came along, and after a minute or so the other car’s engine started. Akaashi pulled out of the parking space and gestured for Tooru to follow as he drove off.

It was early enough that they didn’t pass many other cars as they drove towards the town, a fact for which Tooru was eternally grateful. Finally, as they drew close to the outskirts, Akaashi pulled off onto a lane which was little more than a dirt track, and parked up outside a field. He got out and walked over to Tooru, looking around far more warily than he had while stealing the car in the first place.

“We need to transfer what we’re taking into the other car,” he said. “Take _only_ the things you can’t live without. We’ll leave the rest behind. It’s a trail, but it can’t be helped. It’s more important to reduce the risk of leaving any trail once we get closer to our destination.”

Tooru nodded, and helped to carry the food across to the other vehicle. Akaashi announced that he had five minutes to decide what he was taking, and returned to his seat in the front of the car, rummaging around in the glove compartment.

 _Okay_ , Tooru told himself. _What I can’t live without_. That meant the information his grandfather had gathered, his walking stick and the assortment of painkillers, and…he gritted his teeth. If he was right and he wasn’t ever going to make it back again, that had to include his mementos of his old life, too. If he wanted to keep any record of who he had been, he’d need to carry it with them as they fled.

There was a photograph of his now former volleyball team in his wallet. He was suddenly glad to have it. What if he never saw them again? What if he never saw _Iwaizumi_ again?

 _Later_ , he told himself, shaking his head. There wasn’t time to get distracted. He grabbed the boxes containing his grandfather’s work notes and trinkets. After emptying a large carpet bag filled with clothes over the back seat, he stuffed both inside, wedging a shirt in as well to prevent htem rattling around. From the heap of clothes he grabbed one more shirt and a change of underwear. His washbag was somewhere else…well. Akaashi would probably not deem that essential, but like hell was he planning to go on the run into who knew where without the ability to stay clean and presentable.

The other bag was on the far seat, and Tooru groaned as he reached across and opened it. His knee was _not_ going to thank him for this. More clothes tumbled out as he opened it, already well-creased from his hasty packing a few hours before. He rifled through them until he found the small pouch he’d shoved some toiletries and his shaving gear into, grinning with triumph as he wedged the lot into the carpet bag and backed out of the car.

Akaashi said nothing as Tooru slung the bag on the back seat, but nodded at him as he settled into the front and closed the door.

“I found a map of the local area,” he said, holding up a thick, dog-eared book. “Oikawa-san, I’ll need you to drive the other car a little further so that we can leave this one in a safe location, and then I'll take over to drive into town and abandon it there. After that…we’re going to do something incredibly dangerous and stupid.”

Akaashi fell silent, staring out past the steering wheel. He sighed, frowning. “Ordinarily I wouldn’t even contemplate it—especially given your condition—but I _know_ the people who are following us. They know _me_ , and they know the way I think. If we want to lose the tail, I don’t believe we have a choice. By acting out of character, I am more likely to outwit them.”

“Exactly how stupid are we talking,” Tooru asked, eyeing the other car warily.

“Potentially lethal,” Akaashi replied bluntly. “But as I said: if there were any alternative, please believe me when I say we would have taken it. I’m going to need you to follow my instructions to the very letter, understood?”

 

* * *

 

By the time they bought their train tickets, Tooru was sure he was going to be sick. _This is a joke_ , he told himself. _I’m not really going to do it. It’s completely impossible._

Still, impossible or not, he followed Akaashi out onto the platform, clutching his spare suitcase tightly. He was sure he looked nervous, even to the casual eye. But that would probably play into Akaashi’s hand, right? The other man looked calm and unflappable as ever: watching their fellow passengers and glancing, now and then, up at the eaves of the station.

 _Looking for the security cameras_ , Tooru told himself. _We’re being filmed right at this very moment. They’re tracking us._

There were three ways to deal with CCTV, Akaashi had told him. You could destroy it, thus leaving a trail of negatives which could be used to trace you almost as easily as the footage itself would have; you could attempt to avoid it altogether, which carried a high chance of failure given that many towns were starting to roll out cameras on busy streets—or you could abuse it. Deliberately allow yourself to be filmed and then let that footage mislead those pursuing you. If CCTV caught them standing at _this_ station, boarding _this_ train…their pursuers would look for them at the stations which followed.

They would have to follow that trail, and check each and every station the train stopped at further down the line, waiting for them to emerge again. The trick, then, would be to fool them into believing that they were on the train when they weren’t.

This all made perfect sense to Tooru. He’d said as much. Said he didn’t understand the danger. All they had to do, surely, was to board the train and then make sure they weren’t observed leaving it. The thin-lipped smile on Akaashi’s face had immediately warned him that he was not going to like what he was about to hear. He very much hadn’t.

As early in the morning as it was—in such a small town, too—the train was almost empty. They easily managed to gain a compartment to themselves. Akaashi slid the sign over to “engaged” and closed the door, then turned to examine the window.

“These trains are old, which is fortunate” he said flatly, walking over and raising the sash. “They won’t pick up speed until we’re much farther down the line, I hope, and their top speed isn’t all that high at any rate. Either way, you should not expect this to be easy. We’re going to have to wait until we’re well outside town before we can make our move, which not only means that we’ll likely have run into the ticket collector, but also that the train _will_ be at maximum cruising speed. Throw the bag out before you jump, and keep your arms tucked to your sides. Don’t try and land on your feet, and if you value your life then _roll_ when you hit the ground. It will take some of the force out of the impact. Understood? You’ll be aiming for the grassy banks as soon as we approach a cutting.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Tooru said. “You’re _sure_ we have to do this?”

Akaashi nodded grimly. “If there were any alternative I wouldn’t have suggested it. Unfortunately, we are being pursued by my former colleagues. They will have been fed misinformation, and believe me a traitor to the Republic. They know the way I think. The way I work. If I allow myself to fall into patterns of behaviour that they expect we don’t stand a chance. And if we’re caught, they won’t give us an opportunity to explain. Not that they would believe us in any case. In the wrong hands, even our own evidence and proof will likely look like treachery. Imagine, for a moment, what those photographs of your grandfather in Loelken territory would look like to someone who believed him a double agent.”

Tooru slumped onto one of the cushioned benches, and massaged his temples with one hand. “Okay, okay, I get your point” he said.

The train jolted as it pulled away from the station. Akaashi stowed the suitcases in the luggage rack and sat down opposite him, gaze fixed on the door.

“We’re near far end of the train, which means the ticket inspector should begin with us. I believe they start at the rear of these trains. You must act as though you’re settled in for a long voyage, so no fidgeting. Don’t worry about covering up any nerves. When they interrogate him, they’ll expect him to have noticed that. You’re not a trained agent, after all.”

Tooru nodded, although he was damned if he was going to let the full extent of his emotions play out for just anyone to see, especially when Akaashi was sat there looking as cool and composed as ever. So what if he hadn’t been _trained_ to keep a straight face? That didn’t mean he was useless. Had Akaashi forgotten that, as captain...as the _former_ captain of a professional volleyball team, he was more than used to putting a brave face on after a loss, and smiling nicely for the cameras even when he felt like crying inside? Besides, it would likely be better if they made as little of an impression on the ticket inspector as possible. That meant no nerves on display.

All the same, he was glad when they didn’t have long to wait before there was a knock outside their compartment, and the door slid open. Ever passing second had eaten away at his nerves. It was good to have something to _do_.

“Tickets, please,” the man said, holding out his hand. Tooru managed to smile as he handed his over. Akaashi was as wooden as ever, switching his attention over to the window and making minimal eye contact. The moment the inspector left, he got to his feet and pulled the bags down.

“We’re pulling outside the last few houses now,” he said, handing one bag to Tooru. “Grab your cane. We’ll wait a minute or so for him to work his way into the next carriage, and then we’ll make our move.”

The wait was agonising. Tooru counted out the seconds in his head, reaching two hundred and fifteen before Akaashi slid the door open and peered out. He followed the other man as he slipped into the walkway, heading to the rear of the carriage and pulling open the door without any hesitation.

They had left the town behind. The railway cut through fields, with hedges marking the boundary between open grass and railway property

“Shit,” Akaashi muttered, leaning back to look up the carriage. He leant out of the opening. “Okay. Okay. The hedges are further from the track near that cutting up ahead. We’ll have to make our move then. It’ll be a bit of a walk back to the car, no doubt, but that can’t be helped.”

There was no faint smirk on his face as he spoke. The carefully neutral expression was stretched and forced, and his words were raised in pitch from their usual tone.

 _He’s scared,_ Tooru realised. _He acts like he knows what he’s doing, but he even admitted that this is something he’d never consider. Training or not, is he even that much less out of his depth than I am?_

It was almost an unconscious move to rest a hand on Akaashi’s shoulder, pulling him back into the train.

“Listen, I have faith in you,” Tooru said. “This might be significantly out of my comfort zone, but you haven’t steered us wrong yet.”

Akaashi frowned, but there was a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth. “Are you trying to suggest that I need _reassurance_ , Oikawa-san?” he asked. He glanced out of the doorway and took a sharp breath. “Give me your bag and get ready to jump. I want you to go first. The break in the hedges isn’t long before the slope gets too steep.”

Tooru handed the bag to Akaashi, who tossed it directly out of the open door. He snatched the cane and threw it out next.

“Tuck in your arms and roll, he said,” nodding out of the door. “And do try not to land on your bad leg, understood? I am not prepared to carry you all the way to our rendezvous point.”

Against all odds and reason, Tooru actually grinned. The image of the smaller man picking him up was probably going to stick with him for a while.

 _Assuming I live,_ he thought, and jumped.

 

* * *

 

The ground hit him like a hammer.

It was sudden and sharp: a crack in his ribs and a sharp jolt in his neck. Time jumbled.

Land, air; green, blue, mixed with flashes of black and stars. Over and over in a whirl of pain. _Everything_ hurt.

He rolled, clinging to the thought with a stubborn pride that _he was meant to roll_. Beyond that, though…

Possibly he kept arms and legs together. Probably he didn’t. The repeated impacts as he bumped along made it almost impossible to maintain any one position. He just _span_. Eyes tightly shut and his body a riot of complaints and protests. The world turned into a messy blur of pain and sharp, ugly colours. He saw stars. Slipped out of time for a while and marvelled—idly, in the small part of him which could still focus—that he could hurt in so many places at once.

It took him half a moment or maybe longer to realise that he’d come to a halt; that he was still alive enough to _know_ he’d stopped moving. The world swam lazily around him, at any rate. He was going to be sick. Oh. From the sour taste in his mouth, perhaps that had already happened. He wasn’t sure he could muster the willpower to care.

From somewhere painful in his chest and his throat he managed a groan, and cracked one eye open just enough to find himself almost face down on a grassy bank. Breathing hurt, but if he was lying on his front, perhaps that was why? His hand was in view of his face, arm lying at an awkward angle which nevertheless didn’t _look_ broken, at least. To judge by the pain and wetness around his face, the same probably couldn’t be said for his nose.

 _I’m alive though. That’s got to count for something,_ he thought, wishing that his head would stop buzzing so that he could actually focus. There was a good reason why he couldn’t just lie around on the grass, he was sure of it. He just needed everything to…to _stop_ for a minute so that he could remember what it actually was.

Slowly, the dizziness faded. The blur of green in the distance began to resolve slightly, taking on the shape of the cutting at the side of the railway. Oh. Yes. He’d jumped. He’d jumped because…because…oh. They were on the run. He had to get up. They needed to leave before anyone saw them. Needed to move. How did people do that, again?

More seconds or minutes passed. Slowly, agonisingly, he managed to get a better handle on his thoughts.

He _really_ hoped he hadn’t broken anything. Because if he had, running was definitely not going to feature any time soon. He’d need Akaashi to carry him after all…wait. Where was Akaashi? He was meant to know what he was doing, wasn’t he? Had he actually jumped as well? Deep in his gut, Tooru couldn’t help but feel a prickle of irrational fear that, no, Akaashi hadn’t jumped. That he’d been used as a decoy to throw off the suspicion somehow. It would make sense, wouldn’t it? They were looking for two people, not one.

There was only one way to check, though, and that was to get up and look along the cutting to see if he was in sight.

…That meant getting up. Which he could absolutely do. He was definitely going to get up, at any moment. It wasn’t at all that he hurt too much to move. He was in total control. Yes. He just had to…had to lift his arms and use them to lever himself up, and then—

Shit. Akaashi had thrown his walking stick out first. Who knew _where_ that would have wound up.

 _I’m going to hit him for this,_ he told himself. _This is all his fault. I never asked for this. I’m going to find him, and punch him in that smug, calculated face, and it’ll be exactly what he deserves after all he’s put me through._

Anger and irritation lent him the remaining strength he needed to pull his arms back towards his body and press down, lifting his chest off the grass. His nose ached and throbbed, too blocked to breathe through at all. Something warm and wet dribbled down his face. It could have been worse—it _should_ have been worse—but he probably had adrenaline to thank for that.

After rolling gingerly onto his side, he gradually worked his way upright to look himself over. It probably wasn’t a good idea to stand up straight away.

From his vantage point, though, he was able to see that Akaashi _had_ jumped. He lay in a heap some distance away, groaning but hardly moving at all. Tooru blinked. Was he okay? He was supposed to be the one with all the training. It was a shock to see him lying there in just as much pain. In some part of his mind he’d almost imagined that the other man would just brush off such trivial matters as jumping out of a moving train.

There was no stopping the blood which dribbled from his nose, so Tooru didn’t bother. His shirt would be ruined anyway, and his handkerchiefs were in his bag…which was in the car, assuming they were able to walk far enough to reach it. The thought of pressing anything against his face to stop the bleeding made him gag, in any case. Even the _idea_ hurt.

It had to be some sort of miracle that he didn’t appear to have broken anything major, but there was no sense taking chances. Rather than risk standing, he slowly shifted until he was on his elbows and knees, and crawled—lopsidedly so as to avoid putting too much weight on his bad knee—in Akaashi’s direction.

Before he got there, Akaashi managed to sit up, nursing a similarly bloodied nose. To Tooru’s horror, he paced his fingers on either side of it and closed his eyes before sliding them down the length of it, grunting in obvious pain as he reshaped the cartilage into what looked more or less like its proper shape. It was a sudden premonition of his own near future which Tooru was sure he could have lived without.

“Oikawa-san,” Akaashi mumbled, pulling off his jacket with a noticeable wince and gently dabbing at his face with the lining. “Are you able to stand? We should… try not to linger here any longer than necessary.”

“Right,” Tooru said, sighing. He looked down at his body and groaned. Blood trickled to the tip of his nose.

Movement made him look up, and he gaped as Akaashi got to his feet, staggering and clutching at his chest.

“I…” Akaashi gasped. “I suspect I may have broken a rib. We should hurry, as much as that’s possible. There will be medical aid at the rendezvous.”

Tooru brought his good leg beneath him and tried to lever himself to his feet. Without his stick it was impossible. He couldn’t muster the strength in his good leg, and any time he put weight on the bad one the pain grew too much for him to manage.

A hand appeared in front of him.

“Here,” Akaashi said.

Tooru shook his head, gritting his teeth. There was no way he was going to put weight on Akaashi if he possibly had a broken rib. How stupid did the man think he was? Shifting so that his arms rested higher on the bank, Tooru tried again. This time he was able to get both legs directly beneath himself. It was easier, using the slope of the hill as a balance. He couldn’t quite manage to stand, but by slowly turning himself around he managed to kneel on his good leg and get his body upright for a moment.

He spat the blood from his mouth and gritted his teeth for all of half a second before the pain made him stop. Right. Broken nose. _Probably broken something else somewhere, too, but let’s not worry about that for now,_ he thought, focusing on the hill in front of them. _Not until we find those lovely doctors at the rendezvous. Maybe they’ll tell me I imagined this whole disaster._

It took him a full ten minutes to half-walk, half-crawl up the hill: a distance not much further than from one side of his house to the other. Akaashi staggered up a little faster, clutching his side, but without his walking stick, Tooru could barely manage to get to his feet. He’d given up on the idea of finding the stick before even starting. At this rate, they’d be lucky just to reach the car.

At the top of the cutting was a barbed wire fence and a thick hedgerow. Part of Tooru wanted to cry. Was the whole _world_ suddenly against him? He sat with his back to a fence post, staring back down at the tracks beneath them.

Akaashi knelt gingerly beside him. “I need to look at your nose, Oikawa-san,” he said. “It will be better to do it as soon as possible, but if you prefer we could attempt to get over the fence first.”

Tooru sighed. “Just…get it over with,” he said, nodding once and gesturing to his face. The movement made his head swim. Was that concussion? Or shock, or blood loss? It was probably better not to speculate.

“Okay. Breathe in, and exhale as I pull,” Akaashi instructed. “I’ll try and make this quick.”

He closed his eyes and bit back a whimper as Akaashi pressed his fingers to either side of the broken cartilage and _pulled_ downwards. It was agonising, a searing, grating pain which made his eyes sting with imminent tears until it suddenly shifted into merely an intense ache. The hands lifted. Tooru dared to open his eyes, and belatedly remembered to exhale. His nose was still clogged with blood, but the awful pressure like blocked sinuses had eased somewhat. Probably. It would be easier to tell once the newest wave of dizziness and nausea had faded.

Akaashi frowned at him, eyes narrowed. “It’ll have to do,” he said. “We can clean ourselves up at the car.”

“Please tell me you don’t plan on jumping out of any more trains,” Tooru said weakly, reaching up to gingerly test out what shape his nose had ended up. He was never going to look the same again, that was for sure. If they hadn’t been on the run for their lives, that fact would probably have had a rather larger impact. As it was, all he had energy to do was file the thought away for later. Future Tooru could worry about that.

Akaashi started to shake his head, and groaned. “No, Oikawa-san,” he said, pressing a hand to his temple. “I rather wish I had been able to think of an alternative to doing so even _once_. I’ll make sure to plan any unexpected flights from covert agents better in future.”

They probably looked like drunk men as they staggered their way along the fence, looking for a way past. In the end, Akaashi draped his jacket over the barbed wire near a sturdy-looking fence post, and helped Tooru to clamber over before scaling it himself.

“You know this area better than me, Oikawa-san,” he said as he pulled the jacket clear of the barbed wire. “Where are we?”

Tooru sighed rather than shake his head. “I don’t know,” he said, resting his weight on the fence post. “We need to get to the road. I don’t spend a lot of time standing around in muddy fields, you know.”

Akaashi managed a smile at that. Thanks to the bloodstains all over the lower half of his face, it was one of the most terrifying things Tooru had ever seen.

 

* * *

 

By the time they found the car, the sun was high overhead in a day which had turned out _far_ hotter than was comfortable, especially given their battered state.

“Water,” Akaashi said, directing Tooru to sit in the front passenger seat. “We’re not doing anything until we’ve sat for a bit. With water.”

“Good, good,” Tooru said. “Oh, I packed painkillers. They’re in my bag.”

Akaashi blinked. “I hope they are stronger than over the counter medicines,” he said flatly. “Somehow I doubt it will make much difference otherwise.”

Tooru shrugged, then winced. Okay, so he’d definitely done something to at least one of his shoulders. “I just grabbed what was in the drawer. The medication for my knee should help a little, but we need to eat, and you’re not meant to drive—”

“It won’t be necessary for you to drive again on this occasion, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said flatly. “Please take whatever medications you require. It’s better that you ease your own pain, and rest.”

He didn’t add ‘while you can’ to the end of his sentence, but Tooru could almost hear it there anyway. It wasn’t exactly a comfort.

Still, the nausea did ebb a little after having something to drink, and the contents of his washbag helped him to feel a little fresher. There was nothing to be done about the swelling around his or Akaashi’s noses—he’d had to start breathing through his mouth somewhere along the way to the car—but at least he could clear off the blood, and change his shirt.

“What now?” he asked, after a long, tired silence.

Akaashi gripped the steering wheel loosely in his hands, letting his fingers drum against the wheel.

“Now I trust you,” he said after a moment. He turned to face Tooru, face as level as ever. “It is my hope that I will be able to take us to the rendezvous point from here, by a somewhat indirect route to avoid major roads. But I have to face the reality that my condition may deteriorate. I can’t afford to take painkillers which might cloud my ability to focus, so at some point the pain may get too much for me to drive. Should that happen, I will need you to take over. It is _essential_ that these documents meet my contact there, and are not handed to anyone else. No doubt the whole agency is after me by now.”

“How do you know you can trust your contact?” Tooru said. “No offence, but you’re asking me to put a lot of faith in some guy I know literally nothing about.”

“I can’t tell you anything now,” Akaashi replied, forehead creasing into a slight frown. “That’s not a lack of trust on my part. It’s security. I’m already compromised, but there’s no reason to suppose the agency is aware of who has been aiding me. I can’t jeopardise him by telling you any information which would harm him if we were caught before getting to safety. It’s no reflection on your character, you understand, but you would not be able to hold out under questioning. It’s better that you don’t know.”

Tooru swallowed. Oh, great, there came the nausea again. “So you’re saying they’d torture me.”

“Yes,” Akaashi said shortly. “Which is exactly why we are _not_ going to get caught.”

  

 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV-BRXEWWQZIRCPSY/TPPARPVMW_  
>    
>  _INPUT:RECEIVED CIPHERTEXT >DECRYPT_  
>  _…DECRYPTING…_  
>  _…MESSAGE DECRYPTED._  
>  _DISPLAYING PLAINTEXT:_
> 
> _> >URGENTBROADCASTCLEARANCELEVELFIVEANDABOVESTOPAGENTAKAASHICODENAMEHARRIERCLEARANCEREVOKEDONGROUNDSOFHIGHTREASONSTOPBELIEVEDTOBECARRYINGCRUCIALDOCUMENTSANDTRAVELLINGWITHSUSPECTEDLOELKENSLEEPERAGENTOIKAWATOORUSTOPAPPREHENDATALLCOSTSSTOPREPEATAPPREHENDAGENTAKAASHIANDACCOMPLICEOIKAWATOORUATALLCOSTSMESSAGEENDS_
> 
> _END PLAINTEXT_  
>    
>   

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I debated for a while whether or not to include that second terminal section. I came down in favour of it after some serious wrangling. This is probably the biggest clue (and hooo boy, don't underestimate how big it is) which I will give before handing out the keyword at the end. You _definitely_ have enough information to go back and decode everything now, if you so wish. For that reason, I just want to ask that if you do, and you read the spoilers in the chapter titles, pleeeease be a little bit discrete about sharing them in the comments? I'm sure there are going to be people who don't want to see any spoilers. 
> 
> ...Incidentally, this is also another chapter which did not feature in my outline. I was meant to be considerably further along in the story by now. Oh well. Nothing like a few near-death experiences to forge some trust and friendship, eh?


	7. GHLAB XVWEG PVMLI TCLQM SVIDE PXMVB ZDAPL ETLDP HGOEC

Tooru slept. He knew he had, even though he didn’t feel especially rested, because when he opened his eyes Akaashi was driving along an unfamiliar road and he could add a sore neck to his laundry list of health complaints. Oh, and apparently his nose had bled for a while again at some point, because his face felt disgusting.

Stretching refreshed the original list of aches and pains, ranging from the deep, nagging pain in his shoulder, face and bad knee, down to the niggling pins and needles in his fingers and toes. His head swam as he moved. Honestly, waking up while travelling wasn’t especially enjoyable at the best of times, and this _definitely_ wasn’t the best of times.

“How long was I out?” he asked blearily.

Akaashi’s answer took a minute or so to arrive. It wasn’t especially encouraging, given that the man was behind the wheel and they were travelling at a considerable speed:

“I honestly don’t know. I lost track of the time a while ago.”

Tooru checked his watch. The screen had been chipped in their daring leap from the train, but it had held up surprisingly well despite that and a few scratches to the strap.

“It’s a little before three,” he said.

“Then I would suppose you’ve been asleep for roughly three or four hours, Oikawa-san. And before you ask, I don’t know how long it will take us to reach our destination. “I’m taking a slightly more…a less direct route than I have in the past. I don’t see anyone following us at the moment but I prefer not to take chances, and it will be safer to arrive in the dark.”

Tooru tried to raise his eyebrows, and gave up immediately. Right. Moving eyebrows meant moving muscles and skin connected to his nose, which felt about three times its usual size and was…oh god was it dripping again?

He rummaged for the handkerchief he’d used earlier. It wasn’t particularly clean any more, but didn’t the saying go that beggars couldn’t be choosers? Probably the same thing applied for fugitives from the law.

“Will you be capable of driving in the dark?” he asked, wincing as the handkerchief came away even redder than it had been before. No more moving his face for a while, that was for certain.

“Almost certainly not,” Akaashi calmly replied. “It’s good that you woke naturally, because I will need to hand over the wheel at some point soon. My reactions are slowing. I’ll switch to a more direct route and we’ll look for somewhere discrete to pull over for a while until we lose the light.”

Tooru stared at him. Just how much training did it take to turn someone into that much of a robot?

They continued in silence for a while longer. The pain in Tooru’s knee eased slightly as he moved it, although it was impossible for him to do his proper exercises in the confined space of the footwell. If they did stop, at least he’d be able to open the door and get some full movement for a while. No doubt his physiotherapist would be furious at the way he’d been neglecting his exercises over the last day or so.

…Not that he’d ever see the physiotherapist again. Well, shit. There was the reminder of the fact he was on the run—had turned his back on his whole life—that he _didn’t_ need. 

When they found a lay-by and Akaashi pulled in, they both sat motionless for a few minutes, basking in the silence once the engine had shut off.

“Oikawa-san, I very much apologise, but I need a few minutes to sleep like this or I might vomit when I move. I feel remarkably dizzy and light-headed.”

Tooru swallowed heavily. “Right,” he said. “Well, I need to do my knee exercises, so you get your sleep and then we can swap places once you’re not going to throw up all over the steering wheel, okay?”

Akaashi didn’t answer, just let his head slowly tip back until it was against the headrest, eyes shut. He took the slow steady breaths of someone working through a considerable amount of pain. Tooru recognised that much having seen—and experienced—his fair share of sporting injuries.

He opened the door, noting that Akaashi grunted slightly as the overhead light came one. That _definitely_ wasn’t a good sign.

 _I really hope he meant it when he said there would be medical help at wherever it is we’re going or he won’t be in fit shape to tell whoever it is what he needs to,_ he thought, wincing as he reached down to untie his shoelaces.

The stabbing pain in his ankle confirmed that it was twisted, although the fact he could move it meant that probably, he’d somehow managed to get away without a sprain. There were some small blessings, at least. His nose throbbed as he leant forward, but there was no movement from inside the epicentre of the pain, so he could only hope that it had finally stopped bleeding for good.

With his shoe off he was able to straighten his leg and go through the full range of his knee exercises, even if they _did_ hurt far more than they ought. Given everything he’d been through, he would probably be extremely lucky not to have done more damage.

It was a full ten minutes or so before he dared attempt to rouse Akaashi.

“You should stretch your legs,” he said, when the other man groaned. “If you’re going to be sick it’s better to get it over with and then drink some water. I think there were some senbai in the bag of food, those should be plain enough to keep down so that you can take painkillers.”

Akaashi’s eyes opened a crack, although there was no other movement.

“Oikawa-san, I am perfectly aware of the steps I need to take. I don’t require mothering.”

Tooru couldn’t help snorting, although he bitterly regretted it afterwards, scrambling for the handkerchief and cursing. It was enough to bring a weak smile to Akaashi’s face at least.

“Well I’m glad _you’re_ happy,” he said bitterly. “And I have no intention of _mothering_ you. But if you’ve got a head injury I’d rather you not be so delirious that you can’t give whatever password you need to to your spy friend, seeing as you won’t tell me who we’re meeting or any other details.”

“Ahh. The concussion,” Akaashi said, nodding slightly. “You noticed. I suspected, but I rather hoped I was incorrect. It was always a likely outcome. I’ll move as soon as I work my way up to it. It’s not too far from here, besides. They’ve got a wonderful person you know. We have, I mean. If Ko…if my friend convinced them to join us we’ll get back to normal. I particularly hope he managed to do that.”

The nap had _definitely_ helped him, even as the time driving had very much not helped Akaashi.

“I’m afraid you’re rambling,” Tooru said. “I’m going to help you out of the car. You need some fresh air.”

His legs protested every step, but he made his way around the car, clutching at the side to support his weight as he went. Even opening the door was far more of a struggle than it ought to have been, but when he managed it Akaashi took a long, deep breath of the fresher air.

“Okay,” Tooru said, reaching inside. “Grab my hand and let’s get you out. Just don’t vomit _on_ me, because we’ve got no more clean clothes. I’ve already got blood on my shirt, I don’t need anything else messing it up.”

Akaashi groaned in reply, but unbuckled his safety belt and reached out to grab Tooru’s hand. It was definitely a joint effort between them, but at length Akaashi made it out of the car.

Tooru stepped back as Akaashi clutched the door and leant away from the car, wincing as the other man emptied the contents of his stomach.

“My apologies, Oikawa-san,” Akaashi said after a few minutes of clinging to the door. “If it is any consolation…actually I can’t think of a consolation right now, but I am incredibly sorry for this all the same. When I left headquarters I was convinced of how important this investigation would be, but it really had never occurred to me that there might be an actual traitor that I would inadvertently expose. I…I compromised us both.”

“Well your contact can get us somewhere safe. You just…you just need to sit down,” Tooru said, trying to sound as certain as he could. He had far too little experience with head injuries to really know what to do. In all probability _neither_ of them ought to be driving a car. “Sit down and we’ll both rest for a while. And eat. We should probably eat something and have another drink.”

“Right,” Akaashi said, straightening up. He rubbed at his forehead. “I can make my way to the other seat, Oikawa-san. Please sit and rest your bag leg.”

Tooru did as instructed, but it was impossible for him to relax until Akaashi sank into the passenger seat and tucked his feet inside the vehicle.

“Sleep first, eat later,” the other man said. “I won’t keep anything down at the moment. I’ll set an alarm on my watch so that we don’t sleep too long.”

 

>   
>  _XRLYAFMWSTZV - MMRKPA/AXRXIYPT_
> 
>  _INPUT:RECEIVED CIPHERTEXT >DECRYPT _  
>  _…DECRYPTING…_  
>  _…MESSAGE DECRYPTED._  
>  _DISPLAYING PLAINTEXT:_
> 
>  
>
>> _SENT::_ What do you make of the comms.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ Fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know what to think. Akaashi as a traitor just… It doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to believe he’d really commit treason.
>
>>  _SENT::_ Yeah. Yeah I know.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ I mean after how he reacted with Bokuto… Oh shit, that should have been his codename. Damn, damn, this is so messed up it’s throwing me off.
>
>>  _SENT::_ We should be clear. Hell, even good old Auntie doesn’t have this voice cipher. That’s…actually why I gave it to you.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ You…you know something. Shit, you know something don’t you.
>
>>  _SENT::_ …I don’t know who I can trust right now. This is major national security-level stuff.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ Fuck. Look. Look I don’t know what you know, but if you think for one second I’m about to betray the Republic I—
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ I don’t know what I can do to prove my loyalty here like this, but listen. I’m not sitting on talk of treason. I’m going to make that very clear.
>
>>  _SENT::_ Even if treason and treachery aren’t the same thing, eh.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ …Are…are you telling me—
>
>>  _SENT::_ At this point I’m pretty sure Bokuto’s last mission was a setup.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ You mean the whole mission, or just the distress call.
>
>>  _SENT::_ Based on what just happed, the whole mission. Someone already knew what he’d find, because we got ourselves a traitor, don’t we.
>
>>  _RECEIVED::_ Oh shit. Wait. You’re saying Akaashi knew about the traitor.
>
>>  _SENT::_ That’s the best part. We had no idea until they claimed he went rogue. I, er, may have fiddled the paperwork so it looked like he was on leave this last couple of weeks. He’s actually been investigating something else. Something our traitor apparently didn’t want him to know.
> 
>  _END TRANSMISSION._  
>  _DISENGAGING VOCODER…_  
>  _…DISENGAGING…_  
>  _…DISENGAGED._  
>    
> 

  
The sun was low on the horizon when Tooru woke again. His body didn’t ache any less—and the gnaw of hunger pangs wasn’t helpful there either—but his head did feel slightly clearer.

He groaned and straightened, twisting in the chair to see if he could reach the bag of supplies that they’d brought without having to get out of the car and walk to the rear seats. His fingers closed on the handle and he smiled with triumph, teasing it nearer in a series of short movements so that he could lump it over the central arm rest and bring it forward.

“Akaashi,” he said, trying to hold back a wince as his shoulder throbbed with the effort. “Akaashi I need you to help lift this.”

Akaashi opened his eyes. “Oh god, I hate every single inch of my body,” he said, but reached out to take hold of the bag as well.

Once it had been hefted into the front half of the car they both let go with a gasp.

“ _Fuck_ , that hurts,” Akaashi remarked, blinking rapidly. “He’d better have help.”

Tooru didn’t bother to ask who ‘he’ was. With any luck he’d be finding out before too much longer. In all honesty, if he didn’t, then very probably he’d never get the chance at all.

It was a simultaneously depressing and terrifying thought, one which he absolutely refused to dwell on. _Anything_ was better than that, even the thought of eating past the rising nausea which accompanied his fear.

Akaashi pulled out the map book while they attempted to eat, nibbling at crackers and sipping water. He laid it open across his lap, nudging it towards the centre of the car.

“Here,” he said, pointing to what looked like a spot on the edge of a town. “That’s where we’re going. There’s…it’s a hand car wash. You want the tradesman’s entrance round the back. If my contact is there we’re expected. If not…” He sighed. “If no one recognises us I’ll have to think of something else.”

“Meaning we’re screwed,” Tooru said flatly.

Akaashi looked up from the map book, and there was no disguising the defeated, haunted expression on his face, even beneath his injuries. “More or less.”

 

* * *

 

Finding a low-key hand car wash in an unfamiliar town while driving a car with a knee which _definitely_ had not been cleared for use was no easy task. After a few miles Tooru had to concede temporary defeat and pull into a lay-by to take some painkillers. Akaashi had started dozing again, the mapbook still spread open across his lap.

Tooru thought carefully before letting Akaashi stay asleep. It was true that he wasn’t meant to drive while under the effects of his prescription drugs. But it was also true that should they not find Akaashi’s contact at the rendezvous, Akaashi would need his wits about him to try and get them out of even deeper shit than the heaving pile which they appeared to be in at that moment. If it _did_ come to that he’d need to be as well rested as was possible under their trying circumstances.

And it wasn’t as though Tooru had never worked through both serious physical injury and being doped almost up to his eyeballs on painkillers. Knowing the difference between acceptable and unacceptable pain was half of what being an athlete _was_ , and the same went for knowing whether or not his head was in the game.

Steeling himself, he knocked back the pills with half a bottle of water, and rounded it off with another cracker just to be sure. From what he could tell, it was less than an hour’s drive to their destination. He could last that long.

Well, he would _have_ to last that long. There were no two ways about it, Akaashi was in even worse shape than he was—probably due to the hours he had spent driving a vehicle after jumping out of a train, without even having any proper rest first.

The roads inched by.

When he thought of all the hours he had whiled away over the years, marvelling at their speed, Tooru couldn’t help but think it was deeply unfair that the remainder of their journey dragged so much. Every mile lasted a lifetime, filled with fearful speculation about what, exactly, he was driving towards. If Akaashi didn’t wake up soon, how was he supposed to know whether everything was safe or not?

And it was altogether too easy to imagine the supposed contact as a traitor, luring them towards doom. In, what, two weeks he’d gone from being an ex-athlete wallowing in perfectly ordinary pity, to accessory to treason—probably with a bounty on his head to boot.

Worse, what if Akaashi had been lying this whole time? If it turned out that, after all they had been through, he was some sort of Loelken agent deceiving him into treason…

Movement beside him threw off Tooru’s train of thought, but it was hard to be reassured by the fact that Akaashi had woken up. The danger with having had the time and ability to think things through was that he _had_ thought things through, and almost the entirety of his experiences since meeting the other man could be viewed in a _very_ sinister light.

“Next turning,” Akaashi said, voice soft but clearer, and more precise than it had been during his earlier ramblings.

The road was abandoned and empty, badly lit by a yellow fluorescent bulb which flickered ominously. It was something of a shock, therefore, to turn into the yard of a neat, professional-looking building, the sign cleanly painted with prices for various car services. They even had _branded vehicles_ parked here and there, and staff in uniforms were cleaning a taxi while the man Tooru assumed to be its owner sat in a waiting room, chatting with another man in a suit who looked like the person in charge. Some kind of sports was playing on a television in the room, occasional cheers just about audible over the radio which the car-washers were listening to.

“Ask for the weekly special when they come over,” Akaashi said. “Although doubtless they’ll know what we want just by our faces. You may not need to speak at all. Keep it to a minimum either way.”

One of the staff had noticed their presence, and called over to the waiting room. The probable-manager inside looked up and frowned, before saying something to the taxi driver and heading out into the yard. Tooru felt his nausea return as the man walked over.

“Hello,” he called, smiling broadly. “It’s a little late, but if you’re looking for a…” He stopped, eyes going wide. “Er…”

“Weekly special?” Tooru asked, instantly hating how frail and pathetic his voice sounded. Urgh, what was he, some helpless victim in all of this?

“Oh! Oh, er, right,” the man said, relief evident from the way his shoulders slumped. He smiled, although it wasn’t a particularly convincing one. “You’ll want garage three, just over there. Thank you for your custom.”

The words were wooden and robotic, but Akaashi didn’t seem concerned, so Tooru followed his directions to the suggested garage.

The door opened as they approached, and two men in the same uniform jogged out to guide him in. With the window still down, Tooru heard one of them swear to himself, then force an even more artificial grin to his face than the manager’s had been. He had blond hair and what Tooru hoped was just a _naturally_ shifty-looking face, and waited until they were right outside the garage before calling out in a cheerful voice which was slightly louder than necessary:

“Ah, right on time! We got the kettle just boiled if you want something hot on a cold night.”

“Tell them that’s good because you’d kill for a hot drink after all this driving,” Akaashi muttered.

Tooru parroted the words, although what he really wanted to do was cry. His knee had been throbbing for the last half an hour, and holding the car on the clutch for so long was going to ruin him permanently, he was sure of it. Inching forward into the garage with the two men waving them through the doorway as pure torture. It seemed like forever until the blond raised his hand for them to stop, and the door clanged shut behind them, closed by his companion.

Despite his lingering misgivings, Tooru cut the engine and let his leg relax, wincing as he slumped back into the chair. There was no sense in worrying any more. He didn’t even have the energy to look up as the doors to both the driver’s and passenger’s side were opened almost simultaneously.

He realised the blond man had to be Akaashi’s contact at about the moment he heard his muttered curses coming from the Akaashi’s side of the car. Mustering his energy, he glanced over in time to see the man looking them both over, leant on the passenger-side doorframe for balance or support.

“Holy shit Akaashi, what the fuck did you two _do?_ ” the man cried. “Auntie went wild a couple of hours ago about how you’re an agent-killer and priority number one, so I _really_ hope this is worth it because if it isn’t legit, we are in so much shit I ran out of words to describe it all.”

“I got proof,” Akaashi said, sitting up with a stifled groan. “Photos, coded documents which will hopefully give more context, all of it. But they were already watching the house when you contacted me. At least two. I don’t know who was set the job but they took chase and we had to lose them fast when they opened fire. Their car span out at high speed. After that…I got creative.”

“We jumped out of a train,” Tooru added, trying to sound glib rather than traumatised. It was probably even odds that he managed it.

The blond man gaped. “You… What the _fuck?_ What the hell gave you that idea?”

“I figured they wouldn’t think I’d actually do it,” Akaashi replied. Despite his level tone, Tooru realised he could _hear_ his discomfort as he spoke. “So far as I can tell, it worked. I saw no signs of a tail after that, but I took a longer route on my way here just in case. This car will have been reported stolen by now, but a long way off, and they’ll have footage of us getting on the train after that.”

“Right, right,” the blond replied, standing up straighter and resting a hand on one hip. “ _Fuck_ , okay. We don’t have a lot extra laid on here, so we’d better just hope we can decrypt whatever you found, because the moment any of us report in you know we’re going to be held, pending all this being sorted out. Shit’s hit the fan big time and Auntie is _pissed_.”

“Do you know who it is?” Akaashi asked.

The blond man’s face fell. “No. I have a couple of guesses, but…honestly it could be a _lot_ of people. First thing’s first though, let’s get you checked over and make sure you’re not hiding something actually seriously wrong with you, yeah? Last thing we need right now is an injury worthy of the emergency department, because you’re officially bad news. _Publicly_ bad news, because the chatter went out that they’re distributing your photo to police, hospitals, fire brigades, the lifeguards…you name it.” He grinned. “I guess there’s one good thing, though, if you want to call it that. Honestly, you look like a disaster right now. Hardly recognised you at first.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Akaashi muttered, making the other man cackle.

“You’ll live then, if you’re cracking jokes,” he remarked. “Anything broken?”

“A rib, most likely. Head trauma, multiple other minor injuries and sprains. Oikawa-san is post-surgery for an ACL tear of course, which was likely damaged even further in the fall. He’s been holding his shoulder awkwardly too, which makes me suspect dislocation at some point during our fall.”

“Oh _wonderful_ ,” the man on Tooru’s side of the car said. He had dark hair and an expression so stern that Tooru suspected that his smile was objectively terrifying. “You do realise we couldn’t bring the full kit with us, don’t you?”

Akaashi sighed. “I suspected,” he said. “But in all honesty, knowing that I’d been branded a turncoat I couldn’t take chances with losing the tail. This is far too important. We have evidence that the Loelken army has established and _maintained_ portal contact with another world which dates back decades. The warning was real.”

“ _Shit_ ,” the terrifying man said, with enough feeling that Tooru flinched. “What’s the evidence?”

“Photos taken on location,” Akaashi replied. “They depict established settlements on the far side of an open portal which is guarded by Loelken troops.”

“Oh great, so we’re _all_ screwed,” the blond man remarked. “Well, gents, it was nice knowing you.”

“I’m not giving up,” Akaashi said. “Bokuto—”he cleared his throat—“Bokuto gave his life to warn us. We can’t just give up. Besides, if there _is_ a Loelken offencive aided by a turncoat on this side, our fate would likely be far worse should the attack succeed. On a purely _selfish_ basis we ought to act.”

“You don’t need to sell it to our crowd,” the blond said, smiling weakly. “I did that for you already. Why’d you think I have _this_ big guy out here with me, eh? Let’s get the two of you patched up.”

“Please step out of the vehicle, Oikawa-san,” the tall, vaguely threatening man said, holding out a hand. “We have medical supplies waiting.”

Tooru was honestly too tired to even pay attention to the corner of his mind which pointed out that _this_ was the sort of face he was more accustomed to seeing on television, usually beneath headlines such as “Knife Murderer Still At Large”, or “Reward For Information”. He was dead either way, wasn’t he? It was more or less as Akaashi had put it. Whether their own government caught them or the Loelkens won, it was better to try and live each moment in blissful, wanton denial.

The chair he was led to wasn’t especially comfortable, but the walk over there hadn’t been either. His world had narrowed to bright lights overhead and a stabbing pain which radiated up his entire leg, matched by a similar level of discomfort in his shoulder. Akaashi appeared from somewhere and sat down beside him, speaking to the blond man about cars or guns, or…oh. The car chase. Yes, that was something which had actually happened, wasn’t it.

“Sharp scratch,” the stern man announced, and indeed there was.

Tooru was hardly a stranger to medical intervention—he was still only a couple of months out of surgery, after all—but the series of events which followed were _definitely_ not familiar to him. First off, the contents of whatever had been in the syringe filled his arm with heat that bordered on the uncomfortable. The warmth traced up along the veins and spread rapidly into his chest. He felt it reach his heart. Felt the heat as it was pumped out again. Felt it race around his lungs and then out through, presumably, arteries he’d only ever seen in biology textbook diagrams, pouring through the rest of him until he felt as though he were sat in a sauna.

Every muscle protested. He ached so much that even registering a complaint was suddenly too much effort, because somehow finding the capacity for speech amid his burning throat and fever-addled brain was a task far beyond him. Keeping his eyes open proved impossible, because his face was heating up so much that he could feel the sweat beading across his temples as his eyes scrunched closed. For aching, awfully long seconds it was as much as he could do to _endure_.

The heat faded more slowly than it had arrived, and left him parched and gasping. He hadn’t felt so tired since playing a full match, months before.

“What the hell _was_ that?” he gasped, half choking on the words. His throat was paper-dry, and he gladly accepted a plastic cup of water, downing it in one and not even caring that it was lukewarm.

“Classified,” the dark-haired man said, and Tooru was horrified to see that he was…good god, was that a smile? “But if you must know, Oikawa-san, it was developed using extracts from a plant first found on another world.”

“It’s still too hard to come by for general release,” Akaashi muttered from beside him, holding out an arm. “Not to mention the potential for abuse. Too much can be lethal.”

“That’s wonderful,” Tooru muttered. “But I was a trifle more concerned with what it actually _does_.”

The blond man cackled. “Oh, I like this guy,” he said, grinning when Tooru glared up at him. He bowed. “Agent Konoha Akinori,” he said. “You can thank me for…a lot of things, actually. Most of them you’ll never hear about, but the main one is that it was _my_ warning which got you out of there.”

“Only think how grateful I am,” Tooru replied, gesturing to his face.

“The serum has multiple properties,” the stern man said, clearing his throat and glaring at his fellow agent. “It clears infection or disease, boosts the immune system, speeds recovery of injuries…” He shrugged. “All sorts.”

“It won’t work on serious injuries or illnesses all that well,” Akaashi said weakly, having received his dose and water while Konoha spoke. “You’d need a lot more than one shot, and as I mentioned, in larger amounts it can be lethal. Our world doesn’t support the way it functions enough for it to be an actual miracle cure.”

“If we win the war, one day it might reach the common market,” Konoha remarked, shrugging. “But we’d have to beat them first, and at the moment it looks like we’re gonna have our hands full just surviving the next Loelken offencive. We’ve got a long road ahead of us”

Akaashi groaned, and levered himself out of the chair he’d sunk into, rubbing his forehead.  
  
“Enough fear-mongering; he’s proven himself already. We should show Oikawa-san where to sleep.” He turned to Tooru and sighed. “Forgive my manners, and my colleagues'. I suspect it’s been as long a day for them as it has for us. Konoha has already introduced himself, but our medic is less forward. Allow me to introduce Agent Washio Tatsuki, who will no doubt make light of the fact he smuggled this equipment from headquarters at great personal risk, and presumably intends to do the same in reverse at some point soon to avoid being branded a traitor alongside us.”

Washio grinned, and the severe expression on his face lightened into something surprisingly approachable, especially given his previous smile’s effect. “Can’t let you have all the fun,” he said. “Besides. We stick with our own.”

Akaashi’s face fell. “Not all of us, apparently. We need to know who the traitor is.”

“Yeah,” Konoha said. “But before even that, we need to know what they’re planning over there. If they’ve had a portal open for decades, they must have an extra edge to be pushing _now_. Whatever it was Bokuto found… It was serious enough for him to put his life on the line for it.”

“You’re missing the point,” Akaashi said, shaking his head. “This traitor isn’t just a mole, fiddling with paperwork and twisting facts. The senior Oikawa-san’s initial reports were hushed, despite there being _clear_ evidence of the potential threat based on what I’ve seen so far. Knowing that, and knowing the eventual outcome, we have to suppose that the person responsible for doing so was a Loelken agent as well, potentially even the same one. And they would have to be a person with significant reach or influence in order to divert resources in this way.”

Konoha swore. “We’re looking someone top brass, then, which means—”

“Which means that when Bokuto expressed interest in the matter, they likely dispatched him into enemy territory with his capture a preferred outcome,” Akaaahi said. Tooru had never seen him look so grim and bitter as he carried on speaking: “It served two purposes. Firstly, it further discredited the matter, and it had the side-effect of disposing of a problematic individual who might otherwise have stumbled onto what was really happening. I…I suspect that this is why they were able to work out what I was doing so quickly. By rights, anyone at headquarters ought to have believed I was on leave. The only way someone could have known I’d travelled to the Oikawa residence instead is if I were already under observation of some sort.” He sighed. “I suspect I opened myself up to surveillance when I spoke out in defence of Bokuto as strongly as I did.”

“So they were watching my house the _whole time?_ ” Tooru exclaimed.

“No,” Konoha said. “I’ve been through the files and unless it was done without paperwork, everyone was accounted for until a couple of days ago. The initial report that you’d turned came through shortly _after_ you broadcast to me that you’d found something.”

Akaashi shook his head and winced, raising a hand to his nose. It was noticeably crooked. “We can’t rule out the possibility that it was enemy agents who the traitor set to monitoring me,” he said. “If I had gone willingly and been interrogated, I would have immediately revealed the information to justify my actions, because they were in the national interest. That’s information our traitor never wanted to reach headquarters. Until the order went out to apprehend me, there’s every chance that I was being traced by Loelken sleeper agents instead.”

Konoha grimaced, glancing over to Washio with an uncomfortable expression on his face. “Uh, speaking of…did either of you turn on the radio during your drive? Because they’re claiming that’s what _you_ are, Oikawa.”

Tooru paled. “Me? A _sleeper agent?_ ”

“Yeah, and I can’t say as I like how they’re going about it either,” Konoha said, folding his arms and lifting his head so he could look down his nose at everyone. “It’s too public. Too messy. Just throwing your names out there like that…it’s not how we do things. They’re gonna start a witchhunt, stir up all sorts of trouble.”

“ _That’s_ your priority?” Tooru snapped, sitting up straight and instantly regretting it as a wave of dizziness reminded him that, yes, he probably did still have a head injury.

“Oikawa-san, this is a matter of national security,” Akaashi said wearily. “I…I’m sorry that you’ve become involved in this matter, but we cannot afford to think on an individual scale here. While I deeply regret that you have become a casualty, the fact of the matter is that we must consider the wider effects, if this war should escalate. It’s not a matter of saving one or two lives. It’s a matter of saving thousands, perhaps _hundreds_ of thousands. If the Loelkens succeed in a military offencive, it could spell the end of the Republic entirely.”

“There are traitors and enemy agents uncovered all the time,” Konoha added. “Mostly you don’t hear about it, because that sort of thing gets people nervous, especially when those agents have been living and working here for a long time. Once the general public start to feel like they can’t trust their friends and neighbours you get a state of panic. People will be jumpy. On edge. They’ll leap at the slightest thing and they won’t fully listen to _anyone_ , including us, because they’ll be too busy suspecting everyone and everything. Our work is best conducted out of sight, but now it’s gone public in a big way and it’s going to stir people up.”

“It’s how you might want a population to be feeling if you were about to attack,” Washio said flatly. “If you wanted them scared enough that they’re more likely to get in the way of their own side when the time comes.”

Konoha gestured for Akaashi to sit—he was swaying slightly where he stood—and turned to Tooru again. “I’m afraid you’re in with us, now,” he said. “If we live through it, we can set you up with a new identity and a fresh start somewhere else, but…right at the moment it’s too dangerous.”

“Well what exactly am I supposed to do _now_ , then?” Tooru asked, pushing his fear aside and focusing on what he felt was rather justifiable anger. “Hide out in this garage until either we get invaded by the Loelkens or you find the traitor?”

“To begin with, you will sleep,” Washio said, face stern and imposing once again. “The serum aids recovery but it’s no miracle. This is a safehouse; we have beds. Everything else must wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's been a while! I actually wrote this chapter back during November, but life has been so hectic that it's only now that I've been able to edit it, and even that's because I have managed to injure my hand, and editing is less taxing than actually writing. Being limited like this is driving me up the wall. 
> 
> The end of this chapter also brings me back to my original outline of this fic - yup, since the point they left Oikawa's house, this has all been extra plot which sorta led me slightly astray. I'm looking forward to making some real progress with the main plot. Fun times, they are ahead (albeit probably not for Oikawa)
> 
> And of course, if you want to chat to me about this (or any other) of my fics, feel free to leave a comment or look me up on [Tumblr!](http://tottwritesfanfic.tumblr.com/)


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